Saturday, December 11, 2010

Admitting

I need a momma.  Not the mother that I have.  Not the one who gave birth to me and brought me into this crazy, mixed-up world doped up on twilight drugs so that she wouldn't have to feel anything.  Not the one who has lived her entire life in a completely irresponsible way, banking on the idea that her responsible daughter and hard-working son-in-law would serve as her retirement plan.  Not the mother who has betrayed me time and time again, all the while knowing that my heart is far too loyal and much too tender for me to take off to a tropical island with no forwarding address.  Not the mother who calls me up, and without even taking a breath, marches directly into a diatribe about who did what to her this week, and then wonders why she knows so little about my health condition.  And most of the time, I am okay with needing a momma.  I really, really am.  I have a wonderful, loving husband.  I have a father who is not only my father but a man who I genuinely like.  A lot.  And of course, I have my miraculous angel daughters.  Four of them.  And soaking in their love is one of the greatest gifts of my life.  But after coming home from a doctor's appointment like the one I had today, feeling totally depleted, I just need a momma.  And there is nothing that can replace that lonely feeling of wanting to be able to just melt into a puddle of tears while having a mom there to listen.  And advise.  Or not.
I find ways to nurture myself that are safe and comforting.  I surround myself with cats and dogs and birds, all creatures who will love unconditionally if we allow them to.  I am sure that part of the reason that I had baby after baby after baby after baby was because of my inherent need to encircle myself within a cocoon spun with love and connection and security.  For me, just as much for them.  And it has worked, for the most part.  Except on the days when I need a momma.

So I look towards God, towards Mother Nature, towards the angels to guide me when I am sapped of energy.  I open myself up to the ocean, to the sun, and to the stars.  I remind myself that all of this, all that I have been blessed with, is truly enough.  Yet I cannot help but feel that empty place in my spirit which yearns for something that I will not have during this lifetime.  I mourn, not for the loss of, but for the lack of.  And then I send love out to all of the other momma-less daughters who come home from a doctor's appointment needing something that can never be.  And I thank God that the births of my own daughters were more than just twilight induced dreams after which someone just happened to hand me a baby.  A stranger in my arms.  How did you get here, little one?  I thank God for the sweat and the tears and the joy of being a momma.  And I thank God that my angel daughters will not be daughters who have to do without.

12 comments:

jojo said...

There have been so many times in my life when I just needed to be hugged and comforted by my mother...but it is sadly something she was not capable of and even though she's been gone a long time I still wish for that sense of comfort. Like you I try to find it in other ways but we both know that we will never have that one thing we need. I'm glad that we have learned to surround ourselves with love and how to give it away as we have left our children with a wonderful gift. Hugs to you my sweet friend.

Angella Lister said...

I am so sorry for the day you had. Please know that we are here, encircling you.

Something Happened Somewhere Turning said...

Well now, I miss my mommy!
Seriously though, I know the feeling. Sometimes a big hug and a little pampering can be nice, even though I get all that from all my girls. But there is still that want of a momma that can't be replaced. Everything you described.
I am wishing you well friend, and hope you have a wonderful holiday.

miruspeg said...

What a difficult post that must have been to write Deb, saying it aloud is heartbreaking.
I feel your openness if so admirable. I wish I was close enough to come over and give you a big hug.
As always I send my love and light to encircle you my dear sweet friend.
Take care.
Peggy xxxxx

Tracy said...

Deb,
I too grew up with a mother who was incapable of offering love becuase of her own circumstances. I found myself seeking alternate mothers in teachers, older friends, my therpists and sought these women out when I felt that need within. While it was a substitute, I grew to be the person I am today.
I am so sorry you feel that need so intensely because it's a reflection of your experiences. However, you raised 4 beautiful daughters who will never have to desire so fiercely what you are feeling at this moment.
May you find the love and strength to surround yourself with other 'mothers' who can offer you comfort during difficult times...
xoxox

Renee said...

I find your post so raw and honest and I feel for you while at the same time I see reflections of my own journey in yours. I am so sorry you did not have a mother who could not or would not give you the deep "mother love" that you so desire. It it truly inspiring that you have been able to see what you are missing and replace it as best you can with the animals and your wonderful family....yet as you say, sometimes we need a momma to hold us and tell us it will be okay. May tomorrow be a better day...may your love from family and friends and for yourself be enough....May God's love fill you to overflowing with the comfort you so desire.

Debra W said...

My dear, kind-hearted friends. Your words are like a salve to my soul. Thank you for allowing me to be real and raw and liking me anyway:) I thought about writing this but keeping it to myself and then I realized how many of us have traveled the same journey. I thought about the daughters who have been blessed with true mommas and how happy I am for them. And I thought about the fact that whether I like it or not, this has been an honest part of my journey and that in every life, there is good and there is bad. I do have an ongoing relationship with my mother, but it is tough on so many levels. I know that if she read this, she would be hurt but it also would not change anything because everything I have said here has been said out loud in some form or another. I have given her the clues, she just refuses to take them. In many ways, that hurts more than having a mother who does not know what might have changed things.

Thank you so much for your kindness and for allowing me to feel your care and concern. I now know that my decision to post this came from a need to be "mothered" and you have all done that for me.

Love,
Debbie

Myrna R. said...

You have no idea how much I can relate to wanting a momma. Mine was never a mother to me, but now I take care of her as alzheimer's robs her of her memory. It's difficult, but luckily I did a lot of processing about my life, and truly got to a place of forgiveness. I have one daughter and I thank God that we are close and I hope I'll always be there to be a good momma.

Thanks for sharing so candidly.

Sharon said...

Debbie, this post touched my heart, so much that I didn't know how to respond. It does help to know that we're not alone, while I wish others did not have to feel such pain and I know that everyone's story is solely their own.

The summer of 2005 I sobbed for hours at a time over a period of weeks, and my doctor advised me to talk to a counselor. I did, and that helped with a number of things that were going on at the time. She advised me to write a letter, not to send but just for me, to my mom. I poured out all that I was feeling. I was grieving the relationship that I would never have with my mother ~ I acknowledged that for the first time because I always clung to hope that things would change. Then I was able to look at the reality of the relationship I did have with my mom. I was able to set new boundaries for myself and what was okay for me. It's a work in progress but over time I have come to accept what is instead of what I want to be. There are times when it still hurts, but it's not debilitating like it was 5 years ago.

May you have peaceful moments ~
May you feel loved ~

Catherine Holman said...

Your angel daughters are blessed indeed. My mother is aging and I dread the day I will be without her. It will be strange to be out there in this big world without parents. But, I do know that the love of our Father who created us all will be there to lift me up as he will for you too.
Hugs,
Cathie

Catherine Holman said...

Your angel daughters are blessed indeed. My mother is aging and I dread the day I will be without her. It will be strange to be out there in this big world without parents. But, I do know that the love of our Father who created us all will be there to lift me up as he will for you too.
Hugs,
Cathie

deb said...

I am typing through tears, Deb.
I've been away , please forgive me for reading this late.

I am of course, pierced by your words, your raw honesty,
and can relate so much. so so much.

I know you will pass through to the other side of this, it is who you are. But I believe it is okay to grieve and want and need.

love to you sweet Deb.

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