A Person I Never Really Knew

My mother was never known for her selfless acts. Sure she was a mother who never was abusive toward me, or never let me go hungry, but that is really as far as that relationship went. I love her, but we are not and have never been best friends.

My mother was recently diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's. As I began attempting to preserve the memories she did have though pictures and letters, I realized that I had knowledge about her pre-ME. I knew absolutely nothing about her past. Of coarse I had seen school pictures throughout the years, but never anything about the 10 years she lived in Texas, or the falling out she had with my grandparents. She was always about what was going on with her in the now, and never talked about the past.

I came across hundreds of letters, and resumes that my mom had in the 70's/80's. From managing apartment complexes to taking flower arrangement classes to earn some extra money while her first husband was in the service. The saddest part is that when I found these things, I was talking to my mom about my findings, and she could not offer really any information about them. Most of those memories are long gone, and who knows if I will ever know the full story.

I had always dreamed of having a mother as a best friend relationship. Kind of like the relationship that Lorelai and Rory have in Gilmore Girls. 

My best friend still lives with her mom, and I can not help but feel a tinge of jealously when I am around them. I have always wanted to open up to my mom about my personal life, and the struggles that I had in high school/college. But I have never had the feeling that I could, reaching out to my friends and other relatives instead. I am guessing that is what shaped me to be the friendly introvert that I am today. Unfortunately, my mom was the kind that her problems were always worse than yours, and when it came to listening how your day went, she turned it around to be about her day. Eventually I just stopped offering up information, and she never noticed. 

In some ways I feel terribly sorry for my mother. She spent years closing herself off from family and friends (especially after the passing of my brother in 1996 at age 16). I am her only surviving child, and it seems the only person that really has much contact with her at all. As time has passed, I have told myself that she closed herself off from the world, and all I can do is to be there for her until the end and let her know that someone cares.

This has really hit home for me in the recent talks with my boyfriend about having a family in the near future. I don't want to be a parent who never opens up to her children. I want my children to learn from their own mistakes, but also have the wisdom of my experiences. I want to be their best friends, for them to know that I want to hear every detail of their day, and be an ear to listen to all their troubles. I may not have all the answers, but that I will be there to support them without judgment. 

This whole thing has been so hard to process for me as a 23 year old. At this point I am supposed to be out of college, working towards a career, and excited about a future with my boyfriend of three+ years. Instead, I am in charge of my life and the daily life of a 64 year old woman who I call mom, but have no clue who she really is as a person. I know that her favorite color is green, and that she loves the beach, and country music. All of these things are superficial, in the end they don't mean anything. I feel as though it is too late to really get to know my mom. The opportunity to hear all of these stories about how she got to where she is now is passed. And when she passes on..... I will grieve for the person I wanted her to be, not who she was. 

The Choice

So I know everyone always wants to do the right thing. I also know that everyone thinks when the time comes to do the right thing, they wouldn't dream of thinking twice. 

Recently my father passed away, and my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's at age 64. I just recently moved to Texas in the beginning of 2014 to accept my dream job in Dallas, Texas. This involved working with an international multi million dollar company as a legal assistant. I knew this was my perfect job. Great hours, benefits, and living in a city that I had grown to love over extended visits to see my big sis.

I was settling in and put a deposit down on a new place to live when I got the phone call. Only four months after my father passed away from cancer, my mothers neighbor Dorothy (who had become my mothers caregiver and a grandma to me from the day I was born) passed away. An 83 year old lady who still lived on her own, and has a passion for loving others that was unmatched by anyone I have ever known. 

The time came for a decision....... Give up my dream job and move back to care for my mother? Or just stick her in a nursing home, and visit her once a month. I would love to say that I immediately knew that I wanted to give up everything I had worked so hard towards and move back to care for my mother. But in reality it wasn't that easy. 

I stayed in my home town for two weeks before deciding that I needed to quit my current job. That was the hardest decision I think I have every had to make. I bawled over the phone while explaining my situation, and my inability to give a  two weeks notice. I also cried to the point that I couldn't type as I sent in my resignation through email. I felt like all the words in the universe could not sum up the amount of heart break I was feeling at turning in my resignation. I was a complete failure. This was a career that I was convinced was my forever occupation. My dad was so proud of me for getting this job, and I felt like I let him down. This was to be the career that would support my future children, enable me to purchase a home, and live with a little more money in the bank. And it was all gone as fast as it came. 

I packed up my things, and headed back home to Missouri. I was told on numerous occasions about how selfless I was, and how good of a daughter I was..... but no matter how many times I told myself that, I still had a feeling I could not shake. The bitter feeling of giving up something that you have strived for your entire life. Something that meant more to you that you would let anyone ever know. 

Three months into being back, and I still feel the bitterness creep up on me. It is so hard to be the bigger person sometimes. I had always painted myself as a selfless person who would make mountains move to help others, but when it came to truly putting that to the test, I found myself wanting. You really do learn a lot about yourself under circumstances that you can not control. I am still trying to pick up the pieces of leaving my new life to come back to the old. Every day, trying to let go of the resentment that still runs deep in my mind.