Sixteen

            Day five!  Melissa really wanted to finish the letter to mom.  She was ready to be done, but needed to be patient with the process.  The letter reminded her that regardless of how ingrained it was in her DNA she was not responsible for her mother’s choices.  It was a major paradigm shift to transition away from that overwhelming sense of responsibility. She didn’t want to continue to be defined by what she would, could or should do or be doing for her mother. 

‘Love covered a multitude of sins;’ wasn’t the mantra she needed running through her head.  No more cover up.  It was time to reveal the stark reality of her mother! She began to write;

Here’s another example of how I know telling you things would not have done any good!  When we lived in Juneau you dated Ed Tryon. It’s three years later and we live in Anchorage. I was eighteen, worked at Duty Free, lived at home. You called and said I needed to come home after work because Ed was in town and wanted to see us kids. I could barely remember Ed, but whatever, I figured it would just be a quick hi, which it was.

       The next morning, I got a call at work from Ed. He wanted to know if I could meet him for lunch.  We arranged to meet at the airport restaurant.  I was in a quandary about why he’d want to meet me. I figured it must have something to do with you.  We met, had a pleasant enough lunch. It was more than a bit odd because he never really talked about you. He kept asking about me.

       Then came the bombshell. He said he’d kept track of when I’d turn eighteen. He knew I’d turn out to be a beautiful young woman.  He wanted to know if he’d stand a chance with my dating him.  He’s a man in his late-thirties and I’m eighteen. To say I was stunned and shocked is an understatement!  I told him no and I was seriously dating someone.  He was disappointed but had wanted to at least try. He adamantly told me that if I became free to let him know.

       As soon as I got off work, I headed to Debe’s and told her what happened. She got mad and said your mother needs to know this. I frantically replied no it wouldn’t do any good. She insisted; off we went. We told you what happened. You refused to believe it, accused us of never liking Ed. We were trying to ruin any chance you may have with him again. It was an ugly confrontation. I, as usual, shut up, you and Debe continued to argue. That’s why I felt safe with Debe she always had my back! You on the other hand mother never had my back.

       It was always about how you felt. I recall when Jennifer’s heel practically got cut off in bicycle spokes. I stood by the edge of her bed in the emergency room. You stood in the corner. Wringing your hands because of how it made you ‘feel’ watching her get stitched up.

       Your way of consoling me as I struggled with infertility was to say; “The worlds too wicked to bring any more kids into it!” What made you think that was an appropriate thing to say to your heart-broken daughter?! 

       When Nicole died of a Heroin overdose; you called sobbing, wanting me to call and talk to the police because you couldn’t. Time and again you turned to me to do what you couldn’t. Guess what?!  I don’t want nor have to do that anymore. 

I get triggered and want to scream when people, thinking their helping to fix us, want to tell me our story and not listen to mine.  Afterall you’re an old lady and its supposed to be the children’s responsibility to make allowances for their parent’s ‘shortcomings.’ Once again, it’s a reminder of how, no matter what, it’s ultimately about you and how you feel.

       The move here was totally your idea. I have no regrets helping you move! I know I did everything I could. What I do regret is I let my guard down. Not because I didn’t think you would never want to move again. I expected you to. What I didn’t expect was to be usurped by people who couldn’t tell you no. I’m angry that you and they presumed I shouldn’t be upset or angry.

       I am livid at the lies you’ve told about me. You threw me under the bus for your compulsive desires. Changed the narrative to fit your twisted version of the story. As a result, a switch got flipped in me that can’t be flipped back. I wrestle with how relieved I am to not have you in my life.  Because it is so out of character for me, it scares me to feel good about saying; I’m done mother! 

       I emphatically never want to talk to you again! But sometimes my gentle soul does. Because I miss my mom. Then I realize it’s not you I want, but what a mom represents. In the past there was always a way to get past the BS and reconnect. This time you committed the ultimate act of abandonment. You’ve spread lies and made it impossible for unconditional reconciliation. 

A parent’s betrayal, regardless of one’s age, is heart wrenching.  For the first time in my life, I have the freedom to feel and express what I’ve kept bottled up all these years. I can acknowledge that you were the biggest contributor to the desperate feelings of loneliness I experienced as a child. Because of you I learned how to quite masterfully emotionally detach. I don’t have to quench emotions to keep the peace at any cost, because it’s the right thing to do.

       The right thing to do is express the crappiness you’ve caused in my life and what its effects have been on me emotionally. For instance, a light bulb went off recently when I recalled the female problem, I had at eighteen. You poo pooed it, insisted I didn’t need to go to no doctor.  I finally went when the pain was excruciating, I had no choice. Years later I would learn that’s what caused me to not be able to have kids.  Whereas if, as a concerned mother should have been, you would have taken me to the doctor maybe just maybe it would have been caught in time and I would have had kids! 

       I recognize there’s an unintended culpability there.  And I’m not blaming you. But now I have the freedom to recognize it as another example of how you put what you wanted above your child’s needs. I made allowances for you my whole life. No more! I’m done!

       Your actions have left me dumbfounded more times than I care to count. I am not devastated; I really don’t want to waste my time feeling that. I am mournful and knowing that helps alleviate the engulfing depression.

       I wish it hadn’t happened the way it did, but it did. I am remorseful but not ashamed. You want me to feel ashamed, because I didn’t want you to be happy and support your move, hence the lies.  Just as you did to me as a child; you are the one who needs a bar of soap stuck in your mouth! This letter is my bar of soap to you.

I’m choosing to no longer be double minded when it comes to your narcissism. I don’t have to make allowances for it which only leads to an instability in all my ways. My yes needs to be yes and my no needs to be no! I’m saying YES to getting well and NO to you in my life!

Figuratively I am cutting that cord between you and I. It was done physically a year ago. I need to cut the unhealthy emotional cord you ingrained in me. When I work through this process, I’ll be able to say ‘it is finished’ rather than just ‘I’m done!’

“Whew!” Melissa said, “Another day of unburied emotional baggage!”

She saved the document. It wasn’t quite finished yet. A sense of well-being settled into her soul. A renewed sense of hope hinted at the effectiveness of exposing buried pain. It didn’t matter that the letter would never be sent, only that it brought healing to the broken places deep in her heart. Places only God could reach as she stepped out in obedient faith and did the work to get well.