Mummy Dearest

Raise your hand if…

  • your mother ever took anyone home that you were flirting with at the bar
  • your mother ever awkwardly hit on your friend in the backseat of the car while giving him a ride home
  • your mother ever complained about you “taking her friends” away
  • your mother ever raced to your bedroom when you arrived home unexpectedly to remove the obviously used condom from your bed from shenanigans the evening before
  • your mother ever picked you up while at recess, bags packed, to tell you you’re moving 1600 miles away that day
  • you’ve ever been subjected to your mother having very loud sex many times, with several different men

I’m sure there are (quite) a few more fun tidbits I’m leaving out, but yes, I grew up in chaos. I grew up way before I should have had to, but more importantly I feel like I grew up without an actual parent for a lot of it.

I bring this up now after a fun conversation I had this morning with my friend Jen, who has been on this hospice journey with me from day 1. The conversation revolved around my mother and her new “caregivers,” my brother and his girlfriend. I’m a terrible daughter because I’ve only been by to see her twice in a month since having been back home. I’m a terrible daughter because I’ve bailed on plans with her. I’m a terrible daughter… oh man the fucking list goes on. But no one bothers to ask if she was a terrible mother.

I’ve been wracking my brain lately, trying to come up with a verifiable timeline of events that has shaped my harsh opinions of my mother and feel like I come up short at times and other times I look at my list and think “holy shit.” I have my first real therapy appointment tomorrow afternoon since I’ve been home and my brain is racing. I know the “family” talk is coming.

You ever feel guilty for feeling sorry for yourself when you realize others have it so much worse? A friend pointed out that while someone else might have it worse, it doesn’t take away from the pain you’re feeling right now.

I just have to keep reminding myself of that. Here’s hoping the head-shrinker can make some sense of things tomorrow.

Until next time!



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