Two years ago today marks the passing of my mom. Our relationship was often tumultuous. At one point I went several months without speaking to her. It was after that that things settled down with us. Nothing was ever perfect. We never hung out just to spend time together, had meaningful conversations, went shopping or indeed showed a lot of affection. She grew in up in a time and family where emotion was not shown and children were not precious after a certain age. When she adopted me there was a full family - mother and father, me the daughter and the hopes of a son. When my father was arrested all foster children were taken from the house and it was just her and I and I think that left her bitter. She had many faults as a parent, but never the less she was my mom.I think a lot of people have a hard time with that. I know my husband does. How can I care about a person who was so hurtful? But I did. I do. Not to say she didn't hurt me. She did. I am damaged due to my
Two years gone and yes, I do miss my mom. Not many people realize it. If anyone. No one expects me to. Hugs were scarce, but I would like to have another one. I would like to call and have her answer the phone in a pleasant tone because her little girl is calling. I would like to explain for the hundredth time how to copy and paste with the computer mouse. I would like to have the good again. But I know that no matter what's out there, it really is better for her. And I try to take comfort in that.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
I have started school - back on the 10th. I was originally taking three classes but dropped English. It was kind of annoying and I didn't need it anyway - I had the credit from my last school which transferred and I just thought I would refresh. I'm left with Interpersonal Communication (actually quite interesting) and Math (never, ever interesting - but necessary.)
I haven't done any writing for some time. I want to and yet I don't sit down to do it. Part of me (a big part, I think) wants to do a memoir but I have a voice in my head that just says that it's silly and unnecessary or even plain stupid. And I mean for me personally, not in general. So I really want to, but keep tell myself not to, for one reason or another. I keep trying to find something else to write about and so far... well, I haven't written anything about anything. I need to figure something out because the desire is there and the not doing it is bothering me.