Thursday, August 30, 2012

Today would have been Moms birthday.

Today would have been her 61st birthday if she was still alive. I miss her and still want to punch her at the same time. Instead I'm using the baubles and beads she left behind to make my rent and trying not to let my anger cause me to do something bad.
She was a complicated woman who would give a friend all her money and then ask her kids to pay her bills. She wanted so badly to make and design jewelry; and she was really good at it; but she never had the follow through to make a name for herself. She had more important things to buy.
She always tried to make you accept gifts but never wanted to just be with you even when she cried she was lonely and no one loved her. I loved my mom even if I didn't always like her.
She had a rebellious streak and she lived to pull one over on anyone she could. That is probably what killed her.
You could never trust her words, but you could always trust her heart. She was a kind, violent soul. She usually had the best intentions, at least when it came to best for her but she never hurt anyone she thought needed help. She would open her home to druggies and homeless then cry because they stole from her.
She was finally responding to therapy for her throat cancer and when I saw her two days before she died she was jabbering on about how good her eggs and toast had been for breakfast and how she really loved the egg salad sandwich she had for lunch but wished she could have chips with it. She even looked better than I'd seen her for months. When I left the final words were "I love you, see you on Easter."
She didn't make it. On April 6, 2012 at 7:55pm her heart stopped. Twelve minutes before that I had given the order to pull the plug. She had been non responsive for over an hour after she had been found at the nursing home with no pulse.
She had managed to flip me, cancer, my siblings, and her brother off in one fell swoop.
Mom didn't die of cancer. She overdosed on meth. She went out thumbing her nose at the world, but I don't think she meant to die. She just wanted to have fun.
I miss her, but at least I have her cat. Zelda hates me. Mom's probably laughing at that right now as she eats more eggs. She really liked eggs.
Like I said Mom was complicated.


  1. Mixed feelings are difficult. I'm glad you're a compassionate person who is looking after Zelda despite everything.

    1. She's not a bad cat. She's just cranky and likes to hit me. Therefore I try to pet her at least once a day. Sometimes I can get a few strokes before she strikes.

  2. So nice to hear of someone else whose mother could charitably be described as difficult. I am smiling at the difficult cat as well. My skinny portion's cat Jazz believes he is considerably above me in the pecking order - which means he is entitled to turn into the psycho cat from hell if that amuses him. Yesterday he was savaging my arm. The skinny portion replaced my arm with his - violence stopped. We swapped again - more savagery. Sigh.

  3. I know how this is, to love one's mother as no one else, yet have a complicated relationship, then lose her. It's been going on the third year now, and I can say two (hopeful) things: I got left with the love and the complications have become simple facts, less painful, way less painful than the loss; and the love continues leaving me happy I have loved someone that much. I wish the same for you -- moms will make us grow, one way or another! xoxo

  4. Thanks for all of your support. Mom would kill me if she knew I was telling people how she died. She maintained that she had never used illegal drugs right up to death; even though she had been caught many times.
    I see her as a cautionary tale on what not to do.