Week 12
I am not an envious person by nature. I have to admit though I have recently realized that somewhere way down deep inside me, I have always envied the close relationship my mother and sister have shared over the years. My mom was a single travel agent and very social. Because of her job, she was able to travel around the world. My little sister got to travel with her some. I worked full-time and went to school full-time, so travel and play weren’t things I had time for. I was booked to go on a cruise with them once but it just so happened I was scheduled to take my ACT’s the same week. College vs. a fabulous trip… no contest in my mind, college won hands down. If I had only known what the following year would bring, I think I would have taken the trip!
I married young, as soon as I turned 18. I never finished college because it turned out there wasn’t enough money for anything past my first year. Instead, I became a mother and focused all my energy on raising children… and being a wife. Being a caregiver is what I do. It is as natural to me as breathing. It can be as detrimental as poison if you let it.
Up until then, I had spent my teen years trying to take care of my mom and my sister. My mom says I was busy raising both of them. It’s not far off the mark. To be honest, I was trying to raise myself, too. At the age of 16, I paid 1/3 of the household bills, went to school and worked. Mama kind of lost herself for a few years (that is a story of its own and for another time) so I did my best to take care of them both. Mama and I weren’t friends and we weren’t exactly mother and daughter either at this point.
As time marched on, we moved our little family farther and farther away from family and friends, always in pursuit of better paying jobs for my husband. From my perspective, the farther we moved away the closer my mother and sister seemed to get. Don’t get me wrong, I am glad they were because it allowed me to worry about both of them less. But deep in my heart, a part of me always wished that my mother and I were close, too.
Fast forward 25 years or so: My mother moved home to take care of her aging mother. My husband and I moved in with his parents so I could take care of them. Finally, my mom and I had a common bond, common experiences, and a host of common frustrations. When I left home at 18, I could have never in my wildest dreams have thought that this would be the catalyst for a better relationship with my mom, but it was.
I began rearranging my schedule so I could spend more time with both my mom and my grandmother. Making the trip as regularly as I could (at least twice a month) to give my mom a break, I found myself getting a much needed break from the deteriorating situation at home.
I discovered a friendship developing that I could have never imagined. I was always very close to my grandmother. Now, I became closer to my mother. Our relationship grew and developed all by itself. I embraced the changes. For the first time in my life, my mother and I had something in common. We began to get to know each other better and found that we each admired the other. For the first time, we became friends.
Last year was an emotionally draining year. Each new season brought about another major change. Spring brought the passing of my most adored maternal grandmother. Summer brought with it my mother’s diagnosis of inoperable, incurable lung cancer. Fall brought the passing of Dad as he finally lost his decade-long battle with Alzheimer’s. Winter brought the death of my most despised paternal grandmother. Two days after my father-in-law died, my mother took a fall and ended up with a compression fracture in a couple of her vertebrae.
It rapidly became obvious that Mama needed someone there with her, someone to help her, someone to take care of her. The next thing I knew, I was back home in Ms. taking care of Mama. I arranged and rearranged until I could work out being with her 4 nights a week. Right now in my life, it is where I need to be, standing beside her and lightening her load.
I never could have imagined being as close to Mama as I have become. I couldn't have imagined that she and I could discuss our past relationship as openly and as honestly as we do. Every day with her teaches me something new. I am evolving, growing, gaining new perspectives. I am no longer envious of my sister. Many, many hurts have been healed.
My mother is courageous beyond belief. She exudes a positive attitude. She is one of the strongest people I have ever met. She is a steel magnolia, soft and lovely on the outside but solid steel on the inside. She is bold and adventurous. She is outrageous and playful. She is outspoken and determined. She is one of my very best friends. But most importantly, she is the mother I always wished for and often prayed for. I can only hope to always make her proud to call me daughter.
