Mother's Day....impending

Mother's Day is this Sunday. Sadly, I'm not pumped up about it. I never can get excited about it. It's the day that everyone is supposed to lavish wonderful love and gifts on Mom and say thank you. I actually prefer all of the little things that are said and done for me each and every day, but I do my part and enjoy every moment that Ken and the girls have planned for me. I will do the same thing this Sunday.  I even will have Sean joining us again - and having one of the boys finally acknowledge me as a "mom" is something I truly treasure. I don't expect nor plan on the other two, but it is nice to finally have my moment. 

Unfortunately, I know exactly the problem I have - my own "mother." After so many years, I have come to terms with things as best as possible. Kay is a horribly selfish woman who was only capable of loving me and my brother as much as she did. Nothing was more important than herself and her image, and the image she worried about was the one that was demanded of her from her church. 

circa 1991

As I'm getting older, I'm starting to see Kay reflecting back at me in the mirror. I find it disturbing, and it is also pathetic at the same time. Of course I look like her! The genetics on that side of my family run deep. Just look at how Taylor and I look like twins.  I find it amazing that I am the same age now as Kay is in this picture. I think that being happy with myself and my life has made a difference in my physical appearance. I'm glad that my face isn't as hard, but the amount of emotional scarring is what hurts - and Mother's Day always brings out the sadness.

I have no pictures of myself as a child except for the few that I took with me when I left home.  Without them, I wouldn't have anything to pass down to my girls. I don't have these pictures because my father kept them from me when he had to sell the house after Kay went to prison.

Yep, that's right, Kay was such a "wonderful" mother that she went to prison. Of course, she was wrongfully convicted of assaulting her son by shooting him in the face with a .357. Somehow, everything ended up as my fault. It will never make sense, but I have received confirmation a few years ago that both Kay and Danny still blame me for most of their troubles.

So, I get to watch all of the ads on television, hear the ones on the radio, and see the emails telling me to get that perfect gift for the loving and wonderful mother that I have.  I see others' posting pictures and comments on Facebook about their mothers, and I find that it hurts. I lament all of the wonderful memories that I should have. I find that I lash out in anger because something that I should be enjoying right now isn't possible. There's no one really to be angry with. It's my own fault getting all worked up about things because I will always know that she only did as much as she could.  

Being a mother now and raising my own daughters has made me reflect more on things. I have no doubt that I could have been a better person, and I often feel sorrow that I didn't "get my shit together" earlier in life. I was dealt the hand I got, and it shaped me into the person that I was. I cannot go back and fix it or change it anymore than Kay can. However, I have to say that the main difference is that I have made the changes for myself and my daughters.  There is still some of the dysfunction that I carry around, but luckily, I tend to catch myself before it rears its ugly head. I also have Ken who really helps me and supports me.  

There are just so many times that I wish I truly had family, but then I remember that I am actually better off without them. However, the sadness sticks around and will until after Mother's Day and Father's Day are over. I have some great stories and memories of Danny, and I love to tell the stories, but the fact is, that he chose to stay married to Kay even after she shot his son and alienated his daughter.  He used to tell me that one day, when I was married, I would understand why he stays with her. Well, here I am and I still cannot figure it out. When I had a husband who abused me and my girls, I got the hell out of there and fight to keep the girls away. I understand that the laws were not kind to fathers in the 1970s and 1980s, but how about in 2001 when both of the kids are adults and having their own children? Nope, I still do not get it.

So, rather than continue in my funky mood and depressing my family, I figured I would vent it out here so that I can be genuinely happy and enjoy the celebration of me being a mother on Sunday.  My life is better than I ever thought it would be possible, and it's necessary for me to actually remind myself of that every now and then. I am also incredibly grateful that my girls genuinely want to celebrate me for Mother's Day, and not that they do it because it's expected.  Talk about a difference from what I did for so many years.

Oh, and yes, I know others have much worse stories, but I also know that it's important to grieve for my own losses and then count my blessings.