I was on facebook promoting my new art piece when I ran across a little video that made me burst into tears. It’s HER, it’s always HER!

My mother has Alzheimer’s. She wasn’t always the person I saw a few years ago. She was tall, 5’11. Her hair was long and had big curls in it. She was beautiful. She commanded a room when she walked in and she was like me, pushing back all the ugly to desperately seek the attention of her mother.

She wasn’t always paranoid like this, she was a sociopath, demonic and cruel.
She was funny, or at least I thought so at the time.
She showered us with money and gifts but denied us a safe bed to sleep in. This educated woman with a good career had us sleeping in cars to get away from prosecution.
She called herself the black sheep of the family, she was wrong, that was my Aunty C.
Her voice wasn’t loud, she didn’t yell, rarely cursed, sometimes she stood outside in the rain with us.

I have been cold. I woke several times in my life with snow covering my blanket. I’ve had my body warm and swollen after a long beating with a dowel rod.

It hurts to think that my mother is going to hurt mentally. She’s afraid. She’s paranoid. I don’t even remember whose page I saw that video on but I wish I hadn’t gone on Facebook at all today. I grieve as deeply as if she were dead. It occurred to me that she may not remember me correctly and so I am dead to her, still. At that point it felt like the world itself betrayed me. How dare you not love me. How dare you.

I am not the invisible man. everyone can see me but her. i don”t want to care. i want it to roll off my back and focus on the people that love me now. There have been disappointments, disagreements but I have a wide range of friends that love me. in my heart it isn’t enough to fill the hole my mother dug with a hot needle. slowly, deliberately hurting for the sake of her own gratification.

dr. d said she did it to fill her own needs. immediately i replied, what did she need? he said, for one thing control. Ha!!! She had that. We were children, she had complete control of us. Maybe she realized the fight wasn’t equal that her control was a sham, a cowards course. what did she need. she needed her mother and she needed her long before i came along and took the brunt of rage. i am not pleased that she didn’t get her mother’s love. I am not pleased that my grandmother didn’t get her natural mother’s love and I’m sorry for how my great grandmother endured her father. I’m sorry.

It’s the basics, just the basics. we needed what every child needs, connection to the primary parent, mother or father. and when they reject us, the pain feels like it will never go away.

That video hit me like a truck and the emotion spilled so fast it alarmed me. i didn’t realize how sensitive i am about her condition. okay, well, that’s not the last time i’ll run into an ad or video about Alzheimer’s. It won’t be the last time i cry as if standing at her grave. gracious, there’s more pain to be had with her. it’s always her, always about her.

She took us to video arcades. She skipped work and we skipped school to take in lunch and a movie. For many years we had a driver because of her narcolepsy. Mostly she was with us, only on a few occasions did she allow him to pick us up without her or take us someplace without her. She checked us to make sure no one hurt us. ……right…..She liked poetry, she sketched, she sang and she danced. What a performer she was.

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2 thoughts on “Mama, You Once Where

  1. I struggle to know what to say. The pain of Alzheimer’s is just beyond words. It’s something I struggle to talk about mostly. It’s also one of the few things I refuse to research. I’m sorry you have to walk this. I’m sorry you will never be seen,mhe are, or loved by your mom. Words seem inadequate, and they are a struggle for me, yet to say nothing felt worse.

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