If I weren’t so lazy, I would find a place to anonymously post this. But first off, I don’t know where to look and I don’t want to deal with setting up a new account or any of that work.
But I feel bad because I feel like this copies one of my last posts - in January, I posted about my mom on the year mark of her death. Now it’s the ½ way mark and also the month of her birthday. But see, the problem – well for me anyway – is that it’s also my birthday. In fact, my birthday is the day after my mom’s.
But the thing is, the only thing I ever remember my mom asking for was a million dollars and perfect kids. She usually got scissors. But her birthday is somewhat of a reminder to me that I always failed her on her birthday. Granted, I realize she was asking for unrealistic things that I could never deliver but that never seemed to matter – all that matter was that I failed to deliver.
So here’s my beef. My mom died with me not knowing how she really felt about me. Was she proud of me? Did she like me? I mean, as a parent – she had to love me… but did she like me? Was she proud of me? Did she feel good about the person I had become? Or am I still the person that fell short every birthday and Christmas in giving her what she really wanted?
After she died, I joined the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network. As part of that, I got to go to Washington to lobby congress to try to increase funding for cancer. Of all the congress people from Arizona, the only one we met in person was Gabriel Giffords (now made famous by the attack on her earlier this year.) Giffords didn’t agree to sign the bill we had going for pancreatic cancer because she was taking a stance against ear marks, which I can respect. But she took the time to talk to us and listen and then as we were leaving, she told me that my mom would be proud of me. The thing is… I so wanted to believe. But I don’t know. Honestly, I think my mom would think going all the way to Congress would be a waste of time and effort (and thus far she would be right since it still hasn't passed.)
I have heard expressed by some of my siblings that they look forward to a heaven where they will be able to lay their heads on her lap and feel the love and comfort and childhood. But I didn’t experience that with my mom. Her time was delegated to other responsibilities and I don’t have an experience that like on which draw on.
Over the years I have turned to other people to fill that hole but I feel that unless I constantly put myself in their lives, they forget about me or decide I’m too much of a hassle anyway. I want a mom because I want someone that remembers to call me, too. I want someone that has to love me even if I’m a screw up and as much as I appreciate my husband… I want a mom. One that I know where I stand with. Why, at 2 days shy of 30 years old, more than 6 ½ years into my mom’s death, am I still dealing with this? How do I just get over it and get past it already? Do you think there’s a way, post-mortem to know?
… And if not… is there a way to stop caring so it stops hurting so much? And fill this hole in my heart?

