Looking For a Spoon

I was spending the weekend at a friend’s house.  I guess I was about 12 or so?  We had went to bed a little late watching TV and being silly.  I woke up and realized the house was quiet.  You know how it’s awkward to go through someone’s house even after her parents have said to feel free to get whatever you need…...still feels like an intrusion.  

So I was laying in bed and waiting for my friend to wake up.  She was still snoring. After about 30 minutes or so, I needed to pee really bad and I was hungry.  So headed for the bathroom……….and then immediately for the kitchen.  There was cereal!  Yay!  And it was one of the brands my mom thought was too expensive!  Double Yay!  I found a bowl, got the milk and added it to the cereal.  Then I went to get a spoon.  

Boom!

Right there in the drawer was something that caught me completely off guard.  There were spoons, knives, forks all in the drawer.  There were no short straws.  I immediately turned around and looked at the kitchen table.  No mirrors.  It took some time.  I stood there looking around and felt like my mind was blank.  And then it all started crashing in on my brain and heart. It was my first and only “ah ha” moment.  My house wasn’t normal. My house was fucked up. Not my house..........my family.

 

Later that day, I went home and looked around.  I went right to the kitchen and there was the mirror on the table.  Next to them were those old film bottles that look like pill bottles? My parents used those for weed, weed seeds, weed stems, hash, cocaine, etc. I walked over to the silverware drawer…...opened it…..yup…..short cut up straws.  I never said anything to my parents that day.  But my view of them became more focused.  I can see now that it was also the first time I’d judged my parents on the kind of parents they were toward us.  

It wasn’t until years later when I had children of my own that I brought it up to my mother.  In my heart, I knew I was hoping for an apology but I knew that’s not the type of people they are.  Like a lot of people with a troubled past, it’s easier to act like it didn’t happen or wasn’t a big deal than to apologize.  It’s got to be difficult to sit in front of your children and acknowledge - hey I fucked up your childhood and I’m sorry.  

My mom.  Mmm Mmm Mmm.  She’s not an easy person and her heart is closed (I believe out of guilt she won’t face).  So I asked her about it.  I didn’t tell her about my moment because I didn’t want her to feel compared to other parents.  I just wanted to see if she looked at that time as a mistake.  Guess what?  She didn’t say anything other than an offhanded “so what?” remark.  My mom.  

People wonder how I could have distanced myself from my family.  If they knew my family, they’d wonder why I didn’t do it much sooner.

The Greatest Love of All - Not Likely

This is probably going to sound completely inappropriate. Maybe it is, but it's my honest inappropriate opinion. I've always believed in the loyalty of parents toward their children. I believe that as a parent, I owe everything iota of my life toward helping my children understand and learn what they need and how to get it. That does NOT stop on their 18th birthday. It goes on until I die. I am always aware that whatever I am learning now about mortgages, debt consolidation, pedicures, ear wax build up, tax returns, etc is all information I should pass down to my babies.

I love them enough that this is a joy to do.

Most of the time.

But not lately.

I'm going to do the Kelly Ripa thing and call this child - She who shall not be named. Not because I might embarrass her, but because she is a huge embarrassment to me right now as a mom. Mom's have that thing where we always love you, but might not really like you sometimes. Well, right now I'm struggly to keep the love for her in my heart because she's doing so many hurtful things. And not just to me, but to the rest of the family, to her friends, and definitely to herself. I'm hoping that she gets herself straight without getting pregnant, jailed, or physically hurt.

It's all just details at this point, but I've finally had to take the advice of my husband and step back to let her fall. And I hate knowing that when she falls, she's gonna be paying for it for years. She has already done so much damage to our relationship with her, we seriously are ok with never seeing her as she leads the lifestyle she's got right now. The people she hangs with are as hideous as she. She's become so many nasty names that I'll choose to not publicize here. The hardest part for me is seeing her take this fall and knowing there will come a day that she will have to call or knock to ask for help....and my answer is going to be NO. It's the answer I have to give to keep teaching her those lessons.

It hurt me to watch her take her first steps and see her fall down and cry. But it's how you learn to walk for yourself. Walk, fall, cry, walk, fall, cry. She's walking the walk she's decided to take, so now she's gonna have to fall and cry on her own. I'll listen, I'll advise, but she's gonna have to pick herself up all over again.

She doesn't want to do right by me now, don't expect me to do right by you then.