Grief part 2

I don’t remember talking about my “first life” as a child. My biological parents and guardians didn’t set a very high bar for parenting or relationships. My life started out rough with me facing many operations to repair birth defects. By the time I was a year old my parents were divorced and lived on opposite coasts. My father was a serial cheater, he probably had undiagnosed mental illnesses. I know he exhibited paranoia, mania, depressive type behaviors from the age of 17. He developed a addiction to alcoholism and probably some drug use. He was married four or five times. He had several children (there are five of us) whom he abandoned and abused. My mother probably also had mental issues and addictions. At the age of 10 I became a ward of the state and was raised by family friends. My “foster” dad was also an abusive alcoholic and my “foster” mom had her own issues.... don’t we all? They pretty much started cutting the relationship out once I was 18. My foster dad died in 2001 due to complications from lung cancer. July 2017 my biological father passed away suddenly but we had been estranged for almost two decades. Despite my history and problems with my biological mom I worked very hard on forgiveness. My daughter adored her I thought. For the past two to four years her health started to be in decline. She also developed dementia. My mom passed away late September of this year.

I have had an extremely trying year that at times I didn’t know if I was okay. My sister (oldest) took my fathers death the hardest. Of course she was primarily raised there. So it was understandable.  I can’t say his passing was difficult for me but compounded with the rest of the bad things this year brought into my life, it was far from easy. The gift it brought me was being reunited with my Uncle. 

I happened to visit my mom this past August and I sensed things weren’t going to go well. If she was aware of her condition she hid it well. My mother is highly stubborn, loud, obnoxious, and strong. She was to the point she was covered in sores and not able to hold herself up. That’s not what she wanted for herself.

I’ve been in a deep depression and trying to make sense of grief I’m so used to. I know that mom was ready to go. I know she’s in a better place. I know all these things. My sister was emotional saying she would think mom would call one more time. My mom called me 2 or 3 times in the last eight years. I didn’t get that from mom. I didn’t have a close relationship with her necessarily. She was never around for many operations, my children’s births, my graduation, & my weddings. But I’ve really just wanted a hug. I really wished I had a video or voicemail to just be able to keep her voice. I feel some kinda way and it’s like missing her. I think it’s a lot to do with the void that she’s just not here anymore. 

I was watching Chicago Fire last week and a characters father died. Like me he was trying to deal with it, it’s confusing due to the fact he didn’t have a good relationship with his father. There was an explanation... a parent that is absentee there is nothing to bond to but a parent that was more there but not a good one there is the lack of memories and things to carry you through. Nothing to attach too. So I’ve dealt with all kinds of grief. My first husband died, my grandparents, my guardian, my parents, a child... I’ve dealt with it all. Yet some how I’m still trying to process this one. 

I’ve been through the challenges of forgiving my parents and at least trying to have some type of relationship. It’s been a journey and an experience.