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Is your momma an understanding parent?

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She died about 12 years ago, aged 91 and 6 weeks.

She told me she regretted becoming a mother as soon as I was born - it was a painful and difficult deliver. Motherhood wasn't what she'd expected. She farmed me out to nurses and nannies while I was a toddler.
She aimed to make me as independent as possible. I achieved it - but at a price.
She binged on and off: two weeks drunk for every fortnight sober. Three times rescued from death by alcohol.
She was good at cooking and providing all the physical and educational basics when sober.
When drunk, the household fell apart.
She developed Korsakov's dementia very early,
with insight and empathy being the first things to go due to the brain damage.

So no, neither love, nor bonding, nor understanding.
I still don't fully understand all the effects - only that it is the primary wound, one that started before I was old enough to be aware.
One craves love, and it seems to make no sense.

The only thing one can do is forgive. Her mother was a narcissist, a drunk, and violent.
Mum never knew how to heal her own wounds.
And so it goes. Good thing I never had kids.

~