Mother’s Day without My Mother

No, my mother hasn’t passed…though I suppose if we’re estranged, that’s almost the same thing?


I don’t know why Mother’s Day has hit me worse than usual this year…after all, I’d stopped talking to my mother before the Hallmark holiday last year. Maybe people are piling it on thicker?

Some examples:

1. Klondike (the land-keeping game I play) ran a contest where you were to handmake a frame and put it around a picture of you and your mother. Really? What if you don’t like your mother? Are you supposed to miss out on the fantastic prizes? I suppose it’s my fault for not asking if I could do one with my grandmother–and I don’t usually participate in the contests where you have to physically make the item (as opposed to drawing, etcetera)–but it’s the concept that counts. (To me, anyway.)

2. My local NBC affiliate is doing a thing where if you send them a short video about why you love your mother, they might air it tomorrow. Another “it’s just the principle”. Why would I want to see my fat head on the air? (No, really…that’s why I don’t like taking pictures anymore.)

3. VH1 is airing a special tomorrow night where musicians (and maybe a few other celebs) sing songs and generally pay tribute to their mothers. In one respect: ick. How sappy can you get? In another, I’m kind of envious of having a mother worth getting all misty-eyed over for what she did growing up. Don’t get me wrong…I never lacked for anything. (In fact, a few things I remember from time to time and wonder why she actually gave in and paid for it!) But I’m not exactly the product of a one parent family that spent my childhood struggling to get by, either.


Do I miss my mother? To some extent. We had some good times before and after my parents divorced.

But then I remember that when my dad left, was her scapegoat. (I’ll admit that I was probably kind of difficult at some points because I was going through adolescence, but still…) She was the one that brought a mentally ill man into our home and he abused and generally terrorized us. (And when I say, “mentally ill”, I mean “way worse than me”.) She was the one who went back after me when he was gone. She was the one who managed to perpetuate the abuse cycle even after I left. (Classic abuse situation: she would treat me nicely after I got ticked at her and I would think things had changed…and I would realize after a few weeks that nothing had changed. So I guess I was partly responsible there, too.)


It’s not that I don’t want a mother. It’s that I want a mother I can have a relatively healthy relationship with. And that’s never going to happen.

Comments are closed.