They are not alone in their questions. I too have run them through my inner logic filter.
There was so much fear in my household growing up. Every day when the school van would deposit my siblings and I back at our house we would argue as to who would be the first to walk through the door. The victim of the day. The person who would step in, check the Mother atmosphere on whether or not the rest of our day would be hell or not.
Often times that victim was me, as I was the baby of the family. I'd like to think that they chose me because they thought somehow abuse would come less swiftly from our Mother as I was the smaller of the tribe. Truth is, as I was the smaller of the tribe, I was easier to bully into entering the Mother lair.
If it was a good day, she greeted you with smiles and talk of how she missed you while you were gone the long school hours. There would be a special treat she made, saltine crackers with chocolate frosting and hot chocolate. She would fill our night with stories of her growing up years as we sat by a crackling fire in the fireplace and ate popcorn. The house would be filled with laughter and warmth.
If it was a bad day there would be slaps and kicks and horrible verbal abuse that would not cease until she grew tired of tormenting you. Which, could take hours or days or weeks.
I'll never forget that feeling of my stomach muscles clenching in terror as I took that first step into our house to see what kind of day it would be. It was so impressed upon my brain that after I had grown every major decision I made was influenced by my passion to avoid ever feeling that form of terror again.
So why. Why do I continue to keep this person in my life? To allow her, her yearly visits to my home? I can only say this.
It is not in me to turn my parent away from my door.
It is not in me to cause her pain.
I made a vow, when I was 5, that I would not grow up to be like her.
I made a vow that I would treat others with kindness. That I would raise my child(ren) with love. That in all things I would be the opposite of her.
For by doing so, I would win.
And she would not.
My Mother is gone now, visiting a friend. I survived the 4 days (thanks due to some creative blog therapy and good friends) without strangling her or treating her unkindly. :)
Last night as my son and I enjoyed our home with the one we love, I realized that not only had I survived, I had achieved all I had hoped to achieve when I made that vow so many years ago.
Am I right in allowing her to remain in my life? I don't know. I only know that it is a decision that I can live with myself over. And ultimately, it is myself that I have to answer to, in the dark of the night, when such questions creep up from the soul at midnights haunting hour.
13 comments:
Guess I haven't known you as long as I had thought. I knew nothing about your childhood, but what a horrible environment to have to grow up in ..... not knowing what was around the corner! The good, the bad or the really ugly!! That being said, however, I beleive you have made the right decision about your mom. You kept true to your long ago made vow and for that I deeply respect you.
Sometime soon your mom will be at peace and eventually, so will you. Hold tight to MiniWarrior and love him as you wanted.... no, needed to be loved.
Love and hugs to you, my friend!
Finally another person who knows that mother abuse exists! I grew up in a home where both parents where abusive & I being the youngest,became the kick-dog for the other siblings to vent upon as well.I was left alone with her to vent her anger while everyone else went to school...
Anyhow, I am also the only one in the family who made a decision to move on & take her back into my life as an adult...
OXOX!!
Bob: Every day that MiniWarrior has been in my life has been a day of triumph for me. I revel in the knowledge that I was not defeated and that I have managed to break the cycle of abuse and be a loving mom to my son. It brings me much happiness :)
Jadey: *sigh* I'm so sorry for your crappy childhood! (hugsssss you tight) I wish I could magically change things when I hear of shared abuse. However, I do think the abused one makes one of two choices. To abuse others or to become compassionate to others. From what I know of you through reading your blog, you definetly made the compassionate choice. I admire you :)
Having had a toxic mother I empathize with you and admire your maturity.
Laoch: What doesn't break us makes us ______. :)
you are really brave.
Hi Kat,
I've been reading your adventures with the "wrinkled one" with some interest. I too suffered the ebbs and flows of my Mom's mood swings as a child (where a whack on the noggin' with a hairbrush might get quickly followed by a pan of fresh brownies). I left the nest when I turned 17 and made some vows concerning my mother that were eerily similar to yours. I basically made her a second-class spectator to my life from then on.
I lost my mom to her lifetime of cigarette smoking in January. Unfortunately, it took her death for me to realize that she'd actually had a profound influence on my life anyway. Her teaching techniques were emotionally and physically painful at times, but she was definitely successful in instructing me in what a bad parent acted like. I truly feel that what I learned from her has made me a better father.
Despite her warts, I do miss my Mom now that she's gone. I'm ashamed that I allowed us to leave far too many things unsaid between us over the years.
Your perseverence is admirable, and I know it would be far easier to just cut her out of your life. But I guess what I am trying to say is, be glad you haven't burnt those bridges yet. Life's just to short.
Hang in there, kiddo.
Mike: I remember reading about your Mom's death. I'm so sorry for your loss. It's hard to lose a parent, even if they weren't such a good "parent" to their child. I'm glad you got to be with her in the end to give yourself some closesure. This in part is why I retain contact with my Mother, even when it causes me pain. I want to be able to stand by her grave, dust my hands and say, "You never broke me. You never turned me into you." That is the final closure I aim for. The best reward I can give to myself other than the one I'm experiencing now with the joy of loving and living life with my son. :)
You are a fantastic Father. The love you feel for your boys fairly leaps off your blog pages. You should be proud for the strong man you became despite a shaky childhood foundation.
Now you have me thinking back to a time I wanted to forget. My parents weren't abusive physically, but emotionally it was hell! I was raised Baptist and was relegated to attending church functions totalling around 7 hours a week.
When summer vacation from school began, I was in bible school for the first month. Summer camp was, you guessed it, a bible camp! I never dated until I was on my own. My dad drove me to and picked me up from my High School Prom!
No wonder I left home and went to Viet Nam in 1966!! And did all of the things you would expect from a young guy in the military to do!
Fifteen years later I finally called home and we sort of reconciled but when I flew back to visit, things hadn't really changed,
My folks are both 86 now and we still talk on the phone but I doubt that I will ever see them again. They know that too but that's the way it has to be.
Sorry for the long comment but your post just struck a chord. That's why I said a few comments ago that I thought you may be my sister! lol
Take care...
Aafrica: Thank you :)
Bob: I've seen so much abuse done by "religious" people. Including my own experiences.
Long ago, (my first marriage)I was married to a boy who was a preachers son. His father was horrible. A short obnoxious domineering napolean. I hated him for the abuse he reigned on his family.
To watch him then turn and play "pastor" to a church made me sick. Pure ego is what drove him. I've seen parents beat their little children using the excuse "the bible says spare the rod spoil the child"...everyone accepted the whippings they were giving their tiny children as "normal".
As you can tell. I have zero respect for religion. I don't disrespect people for their beliefs, but organized religion turns me sour. I've seen too much bad. As soon as someone tells me "oh I attend church regularly" I start watching my back around them immediately.
Ok. end of rant :) I've probably managed to anger many good people through this comment. (sorry)
You are a good man, Bob. You triumphed despite your parents. welcome to the survivor group :) We're a hardy bunch :D
OH Kitty Kat - what courage you have! And such a great sense of honor! And a wonderful sense of humour. You have definitely triumphed over all you were raised with!
It appears that maternal abuse is not an uncommon thing for our generation.... that is so sad. To be a mom is to have the greatest gift in the world - a child. I do not understand how one could possible abuse so great a gift.......
sigh.
Hugs to all my brave and good friends!
Mama Dragon
DragonLady: I look upon MiniWarrior and see his absolute vulnerability to every reaction and action I do...and it makes me puzzle inside myself as to how any Mom could ever intentionally abuse their child.
My son loves me so purely, so completely it scares me at times. The weight of my responsibility to his childhood.
But it also fills me with incredible joy. You are absolutely correct. Children are the greatest gift.
*hugssss to that wonderful Momma Dragon* :) *scritch scritch*
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