Eight

Eight

            Jan and Diana remained quiet.  They waited to see if Melissa wanted to continue with the telling of her story. They knew few had heard it or even wanted to. Sam had told her about cousins who'd confronted him at a family funeral who felt they were adults, their mother old and hence needed her children to have compassion and forgiveness. It was the ‘Christian’ thing to do, honor one’s parent, regardless. Their mother’s frail condition gave credence to her claims. Several felt Melissa and her siblings were the ones with the problem, not their mom.  Mom was supposed to get a pass for bad behavior and poor judgement. Because, after all, that’s the way she was, always had been and wasn’t about to change at her age.

            Jan knew it frustrated Melissa when extended family felt the need to tell her what her mother was like, as if she didn’t know! One Uncle had even gone so far as to tell her, family always expected she and her siblings to end up in jail. Because of their very unorthodox upbringing, by his baby sister.  It didn’t help that some wouldn’t even try to understand. How the only way they’d survived with their mother was because of having lived a life of forgiveness!

            Diana gently broke the silence, “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to Melissa.”

            “I’m fine. I was letting my thoughts practice unburying and identifying emotions,” She reassured them with a smile, “Talking about it reminds me how, at first, I had such a hard time because I was so angry. Sam worked through mom crap way before I did.  He really pressed me with questions to get to the root of why. Took a few times before I realized I felt so betrayed by mom. I was mad that she blindsided me. I’d let my guard down.  It was such a sucker bunch for her to go behand my back and think I would be alright with her moving.  Especially with everything that was going on in my life at that time.  But then I should’ve known better. Because since when did mom take anyone into account other than herself.”

            “You went above and beyond to make sure she was comfortable and set in her old age!” Jan reminded her.  “I don’t think you could have done more!”

            “I know and I think that’s why this time I am done!  The thing that really hurts is she’s gotten a free pass with so many and I’m the bad guy. They think the letter I gave her is what gave her the ammunition to say, and proved, I was mean and hateful,” Melissa shook her head, “For me this was the culmination of a lifetime of mom betrayal.”

            “What does the counselor think of you not having contact with your mom?” Diana asked.

            “She gets it and agrees with what the lawyer told me. In this day and age, I can’t risk contact with her as long as she’s telling people I shoved her to the floor and fractured her back. I don’t know who called Jen but she told me mom’s still telling people that’s what happened!”

            “It sounds to me like you’re doing what you need to do,” said Diana.

          “I agree,” Jan said, “Like you said if she hadn’t fallen and made these accusations you probably would still be in contact with her, regardless of what you said in the letter.”

            “Exactly. I know me. I would be doing the ‘responsible’ thing. But I’m learning mom is not my responsibility.  It doesn’t mean it’s been easy, just helps me understand why I slipped into such an abyss of depression.  I also stuffed my feelings because I swore, she was not deserving of my tears for having hurt me.  That contributed to the depression as well.  It’s been quite the process, peeling back the many layers of grief because of her choices.”

            “Sam and Jen have been done with her for years,” Melissa continued.  “They went through the motions of her being a mom.  As the counselor said they were able to do that because they had me to fall back on.  I on the other hand didn’t have that option.  I realize now I fell into the classic narcissistic trap of being her golden child. Most of my life I’ve said that as long as mom felt she had one perfect child, me, then she was fine.”

            “I fed her need to know about her other kids when they wouldn’t have anything to do with her. As I look back on it, that wasn’t doing her or I any favors. Sam went three years without talking to her.  Jen would go months.  But because I kept mom informed about them, she never, I mean never initiated contacting them.  She’d get on me to remind them she was their mother and they should call her.  I wouldn’t do it, of course. Eventually Sam, Jen and even Nicole when she was alive would break down and call her first. Because it was the right thing to do, not because they wanted to.”

            “She still doesn’t and probably never will know that,” Jan stated.

            “Exactly! Because now that role has by default, fallen to her niece that keeps her informed about us kids.  Again, it doesn’t do her or us any favors.  As long as she has information about us to share with her friends it reinforces how she’s the victim.  There is no incentive or chance she’ll ever figure it out that she created this problem, and highly unlikely to at this age anyway.  But that’s were I have to let it go, be responsible in the right way and take care of me.”

            “Tell Diana what the counselor wants you to do next,” Jan encouraged.

            “Ah!  I’m supposed to write mom a letter that will never be sent. I need to acknowledge the feelings of betrayal and abandonment I’ve swallowed these years.  Tap into the pain I feel. Give myself permission to grieve the loss of mom being mom. Then I can do what I want with the letter when I’m done,” Melissa explained.

            “I seem to recall Mary did something like that a few years ago and found it to be quite good for the soul,” Diana said.

            “Yea, I believe she did,” Melissa agreed.  “I expect it to be very enlightening!”

            “Knowing you, quite enlightening,” Jan laughed. “You going to let anyone read it?”

            “Probably Ed.  I’ll have to wait and see what goes into it before I decide if anyone else can read it.” Melissa changed the subject, “Enough of this stuff.  It’s almost our bedtimes I need to get you girls home.  Especially the old lady in the back seat.”

            “Hey, I resemble that remark,” Jan tapped the back of Melissa’s head.

            “Here we go again!”  Diana rolled her eyes.

            “You betcha!” Jan giggled, “Give me an inch and I’ll take a mile.”

            This sent the three of them into stitches. When they settled down Melissa backed out as the lights of Newport beckoned them towards home.  They reminisced about the beauty of their day and richness of their time together. Jan couldn’t wait to rub it into Mary what she’d missed by not coming with them.  Diana, as usual, reminded her to be nice.  Tired silliness prevailed as they laughed about one stupid thing after another, creating the perfect ending to a lovely day.