Mother

Why is it that our mothers still have such power over us, no matter what they have subjected us too?

Why does self preservation shrivel beneath that hothouse light of her gaze?

Why can't we cut the apron stings, stop the yearning for the bosom and safety?


My mom had hernia surgery today...yet another in the long line of procedures she has been having lately...she has good insurance and has abandoned all her kids to live in a 1 bedroom apt with dad, so she is more able than ever to focus on the thing that really matters...herself.

I had hernia surgery in March...she did not come to visit me before, during, or after. My dad called tonight to tell me what room she's in so I can visit her...

My mother is a constant bone of contention between Bryan and I. They have both gone back and forth volleying for my attention since day 1. She doesn't know what I see in him and he doesn't know how I could possibly still care about her after everything she has done, (and continues to do) to me. I told him I was going to visit her and he told me I was nuts...she never came to see me so why am I going to see her...I really don't want to per se, but I feel like if I don't she'll be mad at me and I don't want to deal with that. I hate it when she's mad at me.

The one time my mother was truly there for me was at the birth of my oldest child. It was a grueling 3 days of induced labor and she held my hand and wiped my tears...she cooed to me and made me feel safe. When it took an hour and 10 needle sticks into my spine to get my epidural in, she was there...Bryan could not handle it and left as soon as I screamed. When I went in for the C-Section for my twins and almost died on the operating table, my mother was eating at Shell's. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

I hate feeling like the rope that is used in the tug of war between Bryan and my mom. I also hate caring so much what she thinks or if she is happy with me.

I just wish that she could give me the same unconditional love I have always given her.