When my mother dies, I’m not sure that I will shed a tear for the loss of life. I don’t think I will attend her funeral. I don’t believe that many people will.
As of right now, my mother is pretty much homeless in the sense that she is staying with whomever will allow her to crash on their couch or in their bed. She has been married four times. This last marriage ended with her being kicked to the curb by her husband because he was sick of her shit. She lived from place to place, eventually getting caught stealing whatever change and/or pills that she had laying around. She lies and convinces herself that it’s the truth. She is always sick with some kind of terminal illness. According to how terminal she supposedly is, she should have been dead years ago. She’s a walking-fucking-miracle. Everything is everyone else’s fault. She will lie to save face for herself. She doesn’t care who she destroys or makes to look bad as long as it makes her look good. She can cry at the drop of a hat.
My brother and I had a horrible childhood. It was full of men and drugs, abuse towards her from those men and verbal abuse from her towards us. We moved a hundred and one times. I changed middle schools three times in two years. Eventually I stopped unpacking boxes because I knew that we wouldn’t be whenever we were for very long. Every time a boyfriend would tear up our home, pawn all of our things, beat her face in, bring home drugs that they both could do and then pass out face first on the kitchen floor, or hanging halfway off of the bathroom sink, she’d always swear that those men weren’t allowed back in her life. She’d swear that she was going to put her children first. She’d pack us up, rant and rave and cry wolf about how she didn’t “need no man” and she’d work ten jobs if she had too. Those men always came back. They came back until they were sick of her and then they left. Then another would come through the door. The men changed but the situation never did. One time I had to fight one of her men off because he came into my room high, mistaking it for his and my mom’s room. It took a minute for his glazed eyes to snap some life into them once I started screaming at his naked body pressed against mine in the bed. We never saw him again, thank God.
As the years have gone on, things have not changed with her much. She has fallen in and out of drugs. She has fallen in and out of men, marriages, and terrible relationships in general.
If you tell her something that has gone tragically wrong in your life, she will be your biggest supporter and shoulder to lean on. She will give you advice on how to deal with it (using her own hardships as examples of course), and you will feel better for a moment and even feel like you have a mother on your side. When you piss her off, she pulls from your well of pain and stabs you in the chest with it.
On Friday she sent me a text telling me that the current guy she is staying with was drinking heavily and calling her names. She wanted me to pick her up Friday and let her stay the night until some other man could pick her up on Saturday and she could go to his house. I ignored all text messages and phone calls. This afternoon she called me and left a message and asked me to call her. I figured it was safe because she was at whatever destination she needed to be at, and what could she possibly want other than to complain about something? This is how it went….
Mom: Crystal, I need you to let me stay with you for one night. Just one night until Reggie can pick me up tomorrow.
Me: Why can’t he just pick you up from wherever you are right now?
Mom: Because he has a house inspection at seven tomorrow and I can’t be there.
Me: ………. ….
Mom: Honestly Crystal, I don’t know what the big damn deal is here.
Me: Really? Mom. You and I don’t live well together. You know this. Not even one night and we are arguing and you are pointing out all of the things that is wrong with me.
Mom: Oh whatever. You can’t let go of the past. You are always going to blame me for the drug use even though I’m clean. All I wanted was somewhere to stay for one night,that’s it, and you can’t even let me do that. Your own mother. *Starts Crying* After I let you and your baby live with me that one time when you had nowhere else to go!!!!!!
Me: I stayed with you for four nights. You threw us out. I called Julie’s dad crying because you were calling me a whore and telling people I had an orgy in your bed with six men. And then you threw me out a second time after Chesley left me, because of your drug addict boyfriend, and I had to alternate between sleeping in hotel rooms when I had Julie and sleeping in my fucking car when I didn’t. Don’t pretend you ever did me any favors.
Mom: OH my GOD. You are a terrible person. How can you keep dragging up the past like that just to hurt me?!?!? You know my health problems! You know how sick I am!!!
Me: You don’t have to pull out the water-works and the dramatics just because there is a man sitting there beside you. He doesn’t know you yet, but that sympathy card is nearly worn out. And nobody knows how sick you really are, because 98% of what you have ever said, has been bullshit.
Mom: You know the reason Andy left you? Because you’re a cold-hearted bitch. That’s what he said. That’s what he told people. You know what? You aren’t even worth another stroke. You’re going to give me another stroke. That’s what you’re going to do.
Me: Maybe he did. Maybe you’re right. But guess what? Whose alone now? Not me. You’re going to die alone. Fuck the dumb shit. You have always blamed me for your health problems when half of them aren’t even real.
Mom: I can’t believe this. When I die, don’t you dare shed one fucking tear at my funeral! You are going to regret all of the things you ever said to me!
Me: I never planned on going to your funeral, Mom. I certainly don’t plan on crying.
And that’s the gist of it, give or take a few curse words and crying statements of hatred and loathing.
I was dealing with everything she was throwing at me just fine, until she threw that part out about Andy. She must have been saving that one for months and months. I know that I have very cold tendencies. I never denied that. But I loved Andy with everything that I had. I would have done anything for him and his kids. I treated him great. I had a slight meltdown when his mom and brother were living here with us, because they weren’t really contributing financially and I had no personal space, it felt like …. but other than that, we had a good life together. I strongly believe that I did more right than wrong in our relationship, and I didn’t destroy it, however; when she said that, it ripped me apart. My biggest insecurity is that I destroy all of my relationships without meaning too because who I am isn’t good enough. She know this. She uses it against me.
When she dies, the world will send her off with a farewell and a middle-finger. Her burned bridges will extinguish. I’ll be vaguely interested in what the autopsy report has to say, because I still don’t know what is wrong with her, if anything. My phone will no longer ring with her desperate malicious pleas of help. The world will keep on going. Unlike when my grandma passed away, I won’t bat an eyelash.
Maybe I am cold. But it’s a learned behavior. You are conditioned to feel that way. All of the years of her not giving a shit about her children and now the script is flipped, and she can’t understand why her own children don’t care about her.