My mom was 23 when I was born. The older I got the more I realized my God she was just a baby! Who was raised by a very dysfunctional, mentally/emotionally compromised mother herself. And on and on down the generations. So what could she possibly know about being a mother, let alone a good mother? We kinda, basically, grew up together.
Now over the years that intellectual understanding got me-and our relationship- on a path to healing. But painful emotions couldn’t help but surface more times than I’d care to admit. There were definitely some knock-down drag-outs. Because I still blamed her for the considerable difficulties I’ve faced in my own life. And the relationship remained a work in progress, right up until her death in 2020. In some ways I’m still working on it- and through it.
The only thing I would strongly encourage you to do is really consider what you could- and couldn’t live with if God forbid she died tomorrow. I had very limited time to do that as my mom’s pancreatic cancer- diagnosis to death- was 8 months. Perfectly healthy right up until the age of 81. We buried her on her mom’s birthday.
But I was determined to make sure, to the extent that I could be sure, that through our discussions over those last months there was no unfinished business and no words left unspoken. Now did that mean we resolved all of our issues, healed all of our hurts, perceived slights and emotional wounds? Of course not, we’re not Jewish saints for Christ’s sake! But I think we were both left with a sense of peace about being mother and daughter.
And ironically some of our most beautiful days and talks were at the infusion center where we spent many of those final months, twice a week, 8 hours a day while she got her chemotherapy. Wow was she a fighter, she did not want to leave this earth! Her strength and spirit amazed me and I will miss her and love her forever.
