As mom's illness continues to evolve, my imaginations about her future can take a life of their own. Some nights I can find myself sitting at her dining room table with only my husband & kids, my sister and brother, and Dad celebrating a holiday feast. Empty Chair. Other afternoons, I imagine her healthy with a new head of freshly grown hair, and we're out shopping at Pottery Barn or some small local shop downtown Crystal Lake and she's bugging me about whether or not I want some of their furniture for our own house or asking me if I read the newspaper clipping about an old high school flame. Depending on her health each day, I can find my mind going either direction, but to be truthful, I still end up grieving at the end of each story.
Mom and I haven't had the closest of relationships.
It took me a while to realize it, then it took me a while to work through it, and it's taken me a while to forgive both her and myself for it. And, while it's true that our relationship has certainly grown and changed in the last 6 months for the better, I'm beginning to really realize that we will never, never have the kind of mother/daughter relationship that I would want to have with my own daughter. She will never be the nurturing, hand holding, hair stroking mother that I've needed at times. Or honestly, really need right now. And that is really hard.
As she fights this cancer and I show up and support her, I know that she is not gone yet. She hasn't lost her battle. She is surviving, she is fighting hard, she's a courageous warrior battling leukemia and she is still here; but I am realizing I am still grieving. I'm grieving the realization and the great possibility that I have never had nor will I ever most likely have the kind of relationship with her that I just recently discovered I really, really wanted. How do you grieve something that never was? How can you let go of something that you never held? How do you say goodbye to a dream that was never realized?
No comments:
Post a Comment