I fucking miss my mom

Tuesday was my daughter’s 36th birthday and that was the third day in a row I cried because I miss my mom. For months I didn’t shed a tear; thought about her every day but didn’t cry.

It all started on the Sunday when my daughter texted me: If grandma was still with us, I would have been half her age on my birthday.

It hit me like a hammer.

My daughter was turning 36.

My mom was 36 when I made her a grandmother.

I tried to imagine my daughter as a grandmother and I couldn’t. I think it was only then, after 36 years, that I finally fully understood what my mom must have felt like when she learned that I was pregnant. She must have been devastated, but she never showed it. I know she was devastated. Somewhere in the first years after my daughter was born, my mom told me that she only accepted my pregnancy when I was seven months pregnant. But, not once, from the moment that I told my parents I was pregnant, not once did she show any negativity. No, she went in full on protection mode. Protected me from the world, from my dad, from myself.

The things she did for love…

* * * * *

My first marriage was to a man that was abused as a child, and back then I believed he would be a much better dad than his was. He was very sweet and loving towards my daughter and adopted her as his own. When I fell pregnant with my son, someone (I can’t remember who) said I should watch out that he doesn’t favor his biological child above his adopted one, and I said it would never happen. Famous last words. My son was seven months old when my husband back then slapped my then five-year-old daughter so hard that his hand print could be seen on her cheek for days. I was too afraid to leave him that same night. The next morning we dropped the kids off a the daycare and I told them that in no way was he allowed to pick up the children at all. I had to rush as I didn’t want him to be suspicious. He dropped me off at the office, and I finally broke down in my boss’s office when I went to tell him that I am going back to the daycare.

I was still in his office when the daycare called me. They were obliged to report child abuse at the police, and the police was already on their way to the daycare center. I called my mom, told her what happened and she came to pick me up. Together we went to the daycare, spoke to the police, went back home to get as much clothes for the kids and me as possible and went to my mom. We had to go for crime photos of my daughter’s face, and my mom stayed at my side all the way, while her heart broke inside.

The things she did for love…

* * * * *

Six months into my second marriage I knew I had made a mistake, but there was no way I was going to admit that to the world and have yet another failed marriage. One year into my second marriage I could hardly take it that he kept on ignoring my kids, but when his daughter came to visit he was all over her with questions about school and her friends. So many of our fights were about the kids. I hid this from the outside world. Whenever we went anywhere, or whenever people visited us, we were the perfect couple. Why he played that role, I will never know, but I played it out of shame.

Three years into my marriage my mom asked me something, and the way I answered her alerted her. There were no words out of the ordinary, no different tone in my voice, but she knew. Just before Christmas things exploded, and he wanted me and the kids out of the house for Christmas, because his parents were coming over. My mom took us with her, and we drove from one place to the other and had the best Christmas ever, having our Christmas dinner at a roadside restaurant, and all the love between us that you could wish for. This time she couldn’t take us into her home because she lived over an hour away, but by the time I got my own house, she moved in with us as she had started a job closer to us.

The things she did for love…

* * * * *

Some years ago my father broke off all contact with me. He didn’t say that he would do it; he just stopped sending messages, and never answered mine. Ever since I fell pregnant at the age of 16, my relationship with my father wasn’t good. I came to a place where I respected him as my father, but not as a human being. My mom understood this. On days when I felt low because of the way my father treated me, or when I felt low because I heard nothing from him, she was the only one who could calm me. She understood how I felt, and where she had no respect for him left at all – she had good reasons to divorce him – she held me when I cried about him, about our lost relationship, and she understood that even though it was very superficial, I needed some kind of relationship with my father. She supported me in this.

The things she did for love…

* * * * *

On Tuesday, on my daughter’s birthday my father sent me a message with congratulations for my daughter. He had mentioned her age, and I mentioned that it was mom’s age when they became grandparents. He said he was a very young 42, and then he said: What we take from that is struggle and sorrow, as the Bible says. I stared at my screen, feeling the irritation, then asked him to explain. He said to drop it, and I said that might be better. Back when my daughter was eight or nine, my mom and I were invited to see my father and my brother, who had sided together, and both of them accused me of wrecking their lives because I fell pregnant when I was a teen. Did I even know what I had done to them? My mom told them both to get off their high horses, and move on with their lives, to see what a beautiful girl I had and how I tried to live my life right. She defended me, she protected me, she supported me.

My mom did so much for me, all in the name of love. Over and over and over again she showed me how much she loved me, and on days where I am confronted with some of the mistakes I made in the past, and remember how she forgot her own pain and supported me, I wish she was still here so I can tell her just how much I love her, how much I appreciate all she had done for me. My mom did so much in the name of love. Over and over again.

I fucking miss my mom.

Note: I wasn’t going to write for this week’s Food for Thought prompt, as I didn’t think I had anything to say, but with all my sadness this past week ever since my daughter sent me the text, and then the text from my father, and the memories, and my own feelings, I missed my mom even more, and saw so many things she did, all because she loved so much. I am also adding this to SB4MH, because the grief prompted me to take extra care of myself this week, to get my head in the right place again.

Another note: The piece my father quoted from, I discovered comes from Psalm 90, verse 10.

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24 thoughts on “I fucking miss my mom

  1. Oh I miss my mum too….and I’m 81! She died when I was a young teenager. I’m crying writing this…..

  2. I have been holding back on reading this, as I knew it would be an emotional ride. What a wonderful Mum you had – it does appear you inherited her loving and giving nature xx

  3. You’ve written some very moving vignettes here. Such unequivocal love and support speaks volumes about the person she was and also about the lovely person you’ve become because of it.

  4. This is a very touching post, Marie … I feel I know that kind of love … not as experienced from my mother(s) but in the way I love my own kids … I hope your pain and sorrow eases with time … nj … xx

    1. I hope my kids will think of me in the same way when I am gone. I love them to bits xox

  5. Oh Marie, I feel you so hard on this. Tomorrow is 10 years since my Mum passed away and I have had so many thoughts like this recently. I have no wise words though, just warm thoughts and lots of hugs across the internet because I get it and it sucks xxx

    1. It sucks indeed, and I will be thinking of you tomorrow, Floss. I don’t think it ever gets easier, but we learn to live with the pain xox

  6. Thank you for sharing even though I’m sure it was tough doing so. It’s been a sad week I think. I’ve been battling through grief and loss myself on many levels. Solidarity to you and big hugs. Be gentle to yourself as you’re such a kind person.

    1. Thank you, Cara, for your comment and your love. I am always here if you want to talk, about anything! Hugs to you too.

  7. Hugs to you. I can’t imagine living without my mom and hope I never have to, but age and illness gets to us eventually.

    Did you leave your second husband, if you don’t mind me asking? I am a single mom and couldn’t handle it if a guy I married didn’t treat and love my daughter as his own, especially because I was so loved by my step-dad.

    MORE hugs to you!

    1. I don’t mind you asking at all. I did indeed leave my second husband, and shortly after met my current husband, and we have just been married for fourteen years, together for seventeen. He is a wonderful dad to my kids, and his daughter calls me mom. There is much love between the five of us, and whenever people ask us whether we have children, we both say that we have three children and only sometimes tell them that two are mine and one is his. But we don’t feel it like that – his and mine – they are OUR children.

      1. That’s great to hear, Marie! I was adopted by my stepdad so he’s been my dad since I was ten. I’m a big advocate of stepparents being real parents and loving their step kids like their own, as I’m sure you can tell. 🙂

  8. Sending lots of hugs, Marie <3 I'm sorry you had to go through that with your father and brother. Thankfully you had your Mum and she sounds like a wonderful lady xxxx

    1. My mom was the best. I don’t see my brother anymore even though he lives in the next town, but I don’t miss his narcissism in my life. I still am in contact with my dad, sporadically. Thank you for your comment, Violet xox

  9. I feel so sad for you and feel how passionately you feel for your mom. I’m sure she is immensely proud of you and the mother that you are.

  10. Rebel this post really touched me. I commented recently that I don’t identify as a parent, but what I would have more than absolutely anything from this life, would be to have my children feeling towards me like you towards your Mom.

    I hope this beautiful testament to your Mom provides you the comfort you need.

    1. I am sure that even though you don’t identify as a parent, you are an ace dad, and your kids will think of you in this way too! Thanks for your lovely comment, it helped writing this post.

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