Mother’s Day carries a shit ton of weight

With Mother's Day on the horizon, the joy it brings to some is matched by the ache it evokes in others. Reflecting on my post from 2012, following the passing of my mentally ill mother, I find myself mostly cherishing the moments shared with my son but also mourning the moments lost with my own mother.

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September, 2012

As I sit here grieving for my mother who passed away recently, the day before my sister’s wedding to be exact, my thoughts and pain are unlike most bereavement I have experienced.  Since I remember, she was in and out of mental institutions, had shock therapy treatments and was on medication to help her to try to live a ‘normal’ life with schizophrenia. For the most part, my sister and I have very few happy memories of our childhood.  After years of trying to help my mother, my father had to finally let go and they divorced when I was 12 years old. The relief and the guilt I felt was immense.

Through my twenties, I struggled with issues from eating disorders to obsessive-compulsive disorders as to gain control of my life that I didn’t have growing up. I was afraid of intimacy and more importantly, becoming my mother. My sister experienced similar issues, which also affected her self-esteem and relationships. I believe it was even harder on my sister because she bore the brunt of the older sibling. Our relationship with each other was extremely tumultuous, as we couldn’t move on from our past and our roles growing up.

We are now in our 40’s and have a very close relationship. It was an arduous and long journey but through different measures, we both were able to move forward and now recognize and laugh about our idiosyncrasies. I am happily married and will be celebrating my 10-year anniversary with my husband. My sister recently found her life partner and we just celebrated their wedding. We live on separate coasts but I was still able to be a large part of the wedding planning details and honored to be her Matron of Honor. I flew home earlier than my husband and son so I could help her with the coordination and last minute details. At 3:00 am, officially the day before the wedding, my sister came into my room to let me know our ailing mother had died. She had been in a long term facility and doing well for the last 4 years until the past few months when she took a turn for the worse. 

We agreed to make the funeral arrangements and then to stop talking about it until after the wedding.  As my sister and I were both cursing at my Mom for the timing and one very final memory of the obstacles she had put forth on us (even though our rational side understood it was the disease not her), our close friends and family all shared similar thoughts. They believed this was my Mom’s way of setting my sister free and allowing her to start afresh with her new life and husband. I am not a very religious person, but at the same time it is hard to not think this was the power of something bigger given the timing related to the wedding and that my sister and I were together when usually on opposite coasts.

The same morning a good friend’s mother passed away. It was hard not to dwell on how different our grieving experiences were even though the pain was probably similar. He was grieving the moments he will no longer be able to share together and I was grieving over the moments we never shared together. 

-BT