While I don’t generally put a lot of stock in so-called “Hallmark holidays”, the hype around Mother’s Day does tend to permeate into one’s being. This is my third year as a mother. My daughter doesn’t understand – every day is Mother’s Day to her — but I do love the excuse to lie in bed, have coffee brought to me and read on a lazy Sunday morning!
However, it’s virtually impossible not to think about my own mother on this day. And so, I can’t help but wonder… where is she?
I’m not adopted, as you may assume. I know who my mom is. Although I lived with my father from age two, I had an ongoing relationship with my mom throughout my childhood and early twenties. And then, she just sort of disappeared. Sometime just before the turn of the century, she moved and didn’t forward her new address or phone number. A few months later, I moved as well.
Over the years I’ve occasionally looked online for her, without much success. Once or twice in the early days I did find her listed online but wasn’t in a place to make that call. I was hurt, although I didn’t want to admit it to myself for many years.
Over the last couple of days I’ve been extremely irritable and emotional. Short-tempered and impatient with my daughter. (Well, it could be that time of the month. That might have something to do with it.) However, it occurred to me yesterday… it might have just a little bit to do with the fact that yet another Mother’s Day has come around. And I still have no idea what happened to my mom.
What’s the point of this post? I’m not entirely sure, except… there’s a story inside me that needs to be written. I need to get it out there. I’m working on it bit by bit. This is one small step.
Happy Mother’s Day Mom, wherever you are.
Jeez, Rachel!!! Last week was the first time I ever heard of a mom just disappearing from her adult child’s life….and now I read your post. You’re not alone, my friend.
Maybe your mom fell off her bike and got amnesia? I’m only half joking…maybe something happened to her and she can’t contact you for some reason.
Of COURSE you’re hurt — it’s a terrible, mean thing to do to a family member. Five years ago, my sister told me she never wanted to talk to me again — and I didn’t do anything even remotely wrong or bad! We were raised in foster homes, and I went to Africa for 3 years to teach…and that’s when my sister started to pull away, when I was gone. She even gave me a going away card with a plane crashing and the words “Why are you doing this?”! I forgot about that until now. Obviously, the combination of our childhood and my leaving was hard on her.
I think it’s so selfish, destructive, unhealthy, and just plain wrong to walk out of someone’s life — whether they just disappear or they say they want no more contact, and don’t say why. It’s manipulative and rude.
But most of all, it’s a sign of an emotionally unhealthy person. I try not to blame myself because I know I didn’t do anything to deserve it…..and I really, really hope you do the same thing, Rachel. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.
The worst part is that we’re left hanging, isn’t it? No closure, no “I’m sorry I can’t have you in my life anymore, but it’s just something I have to do.”
Anyway, thank you for writing this….I’m glad I’m not alone, and I’m really grateful for your honesty in sharing this.
And remember that many stories have happy endings. I hope to be reunited with my sister one day…and I hope you don’t give up your hope and faith that your mother-daughter story will have an ending that brings closure and healing to you.
Blessings,
Laurie
Thanks for your kind words and for sharing your own story Laurie. It must be tough to have what I’m assuming is your only close family member pull away from you. But I agree — it’s a reflection of the person who leaves/pulls away and not about me or you. And yes, we definitely have some great fodder for stories. It’s funny, up until very recently I thought my life was boring and I had no good stories to tell. And now I know there are infinite depths of stories in my life just waiting to be told. Thanks again and big cyber hugs to you.
Rachel
P.S. Our crazy moms and sisters make us much cooler, more interesting, and more enchanting than writers who have normal families