Mother

Don't try to please me; there is nothing you can do that will be good enough. Buy me groceries and fail to get the things I enjoy most. Take me to town to get my own groceries and refuse to pay for them. I’ll ask for advice and you’ll offer your best words, but when things go wrong it can’t possibly be my fault.

Visit me more! I'll tell you how much I look forward to your visits and then I'll count the moments until you leave. I'll tell you how proud I am of you and when your brother calls, he'll know in how many ways you failed me. Recommend your doctor to me and I’ll ask for specifics of your health conditions without permission. But I only did it out of love! Why bother asking you when I can go to the horse’s mouth? And when called out, I’ll lie because what kind of person does that?

           I am who I am, and I don't see any reason to change. I love to feel sorry for myself, to promise to take my own life whenever you dare deny me. I will do it and then how will you look at yourself in the mirror? Be afraid every time I don't answer the phone, have nightmares when I've been silent for too long. You can't turn away from me, you can't pretend you don't see me. I am you; you are me. We are the same person.  Given time you too will make everyone pay for your mere existence.

           Unconditional, you say. Ha! I laugh at the word. Everything has conditions. I gave you life. There isn't a day I don't forget the pain and anguish you gave me in return. There’s not a moment I don’t take the opportunity to remind you how difficult those nine months were for me. How dare you suggest it was my choice to procreate! I may have wanted you, but that doesn’t mean I could have ever fully appreciated how disappointed I would forever be in you. Yet, I birthed you, I fed you, I provided you with a home. I could have ended your life before it began. You owe me.

           I know who to blame for all the world's problems. I know why I never have any money, why I can't go a day without aching for a drink. It's not because I don't have a job, not because my husband of thirty-five years woke up one day and realized he hadn’t loved me for years. It’s not because I once buried my blues in the bottom of a beer can or spent time in the arms of another man. It’s not even the depression my doctor throws pills at every day. It's because of you, my loving child.

           So feed me, pay my bills. What about your bills, you say? Selfishness. It's only money. You need to provide for your own family, you say? What about me? I was your family first! Buy me clothes, get my cigarettes, feed my dogs. The bank of dad has closed, the bank of guilt and shame has thrown its doors wide open.

           Ignore the filth that is my house. Ignore my rotting teeth, my yellowed hair, my scratched and bleeding skin. This is my life; this is what I want from it. Listen to my stories of depravity, bite your tongue against words you know I won't like. Allow me to spend my precious pennies on drugs and booze, feel sorry for me when there is no money left for the gas man. Throw away your freedom to cart me from store to store, from doctor to doctor, from charity to charity. Kiss all your friends, all your spare time, goodbye. Blood is much thicker than peace and happiness.

           I am mother; I am God. I give life, I take it away. I demand praise, I demand love and charity. I take every piece of your soul until you can't think without hearing my voice. Feel sorry for me for my life is so much harder than yours. Don't coddle me; don't tell me you love me. Show me. I take Visa, Discover, and American Express.

           Love me on my terms, not yours. Don't you know how hard it is to love you? You misunderstand everything! Those words weren’t meant to harm, they were meant to help! If not me, who will tell you how inadequate you are? How unattractive? You’re upset every time I turn around! You're so sensitive that a saint could hurt your feelings! I only want to show the world how proud I am of you, that's why I opine over your every decision. So, you're thirty, that doesn't mean I stop caring.

           Pain? You don't know pain. Only my pain counts. You don't know what it's like to lose your husband to another woman after thirty years of marriage. Of course, I shut down, of course I gave up on everyone. Doesn't mean you have a right to give up on me. It's your job to take care of me. Who else do I have to lean on?

           I am your demons; I am the breast that nourishes your every desire. You are only what you see in my eyes. I am your past, your future, your everything. You will never grow beyond me. Love me, for I am the only tenderness you will ever know. 

           I am hatred, I am greed, I am yours. 

           I am mother.

           …but…no!

           A mother is supposed to be kind. A mother is supposed to encourage, to defend, to protect. A mother should teach responsibility, not expect it. I know what a mother is because I am a mother, too. You taught me how not to shame my children, how not to belittle them. You taught me how not to under appreciate even the smallest gestures of love, of kindness, of effort. You taught me the opposite of love, of acceptance, of understanding. And now that I’ve excised you from my life, I’ve taken those lessons and become the kind of mother I always wanted you to be. Now I am mother, and I am so much more than you!

           I am kindness, I am love, I am no longer yours.

           I am mother.