Thoughts of my own mother on Mother's Day...

Ok, so after last night I was at a loss for what this day would bring for me. It stirs up a lot of yucky feelings about my own childhood without a mom and feelings of loss for the boys who are not with me but also brings great joy for the ones who are.

I woke up this morning with that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Anticipating a day full of crazy emotions and tears. I was told by my husband to remain in bed until he told me otherwise. We weren't going to church this morning, we were going to a multi site of our church tonite called Church in a Bar, yes it is in a bar but that is for another day. So anyhow I sat in bed and picked up my Streams in the Desert book.

I had not had a chance to read yesterday's pages so I began there. This is what I read:

"I would have despaired unless I had believed I would see the goodness of the Lord...Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage." Psalm 27 13-14

Do not despair!

This got me hooked. Despair was certainly what I was allowing myself to feel. I felt defeated and depressed. Looking at what was lost. I longed to be going out of my room that morning to kiss four little faces and receive four little hand made cards (with Howard's help). I once again had felt I had come to the end of myself and wasn't sure how much fight I had left in me. This is one of the toughest days for me of the whole year. Not only because of the loss of my children, but because of a childhood without a mom. I have harbored many negative feelings toward my mom since her death. I don't remember much about her aside from the fact that she always strived to be the perfect mother and anything short of perfect left her defeated and depressed. She was often easily agitated. I remember vividly the night she died. She had held me a nine year old girl in a rocking chair and she rocked me as she cried. My sister was already asleep. I remember being scared. Thinking about how upset she was and not knowing why. My dad was not home and it was just us. I am not sure if she called the neighbor or if the neighbor offered, but our neighbor came over and took us so my mom could have some time alone. We camped out on her living room floor watching movies. I had this sinking feeling. A couple hours later my grandpa and a neighbor went to check on my mom.

Minutes later I heard an ambulance and my dad burst through the door hugging us and crying saying "she's gone, she's gone." We had no idea what he was saying. (I am shaking as I type this. I am not sure I have ever really played that entire day and the emotions back in my mind so please bear with me) My dad had lost it. He could not control his tears and he could barely speak. I remember opening the door to run across the street to find her and I ran into my grandma (my mom's mom) her arms open wide. She explained that my mom had died.

We went to stay with my other grandma and I still remember thinking this was all a joke and that my mom would bounce through the door at any moment. It never happend. I asked my dad how she died and he simply told me that she was "sick". I found that hard to believe. I remember going back to school and having all of the kids treat me so different. The teacher had told them all that my mom (who was a well loved room mom) had died. One of my closest friends told me that she had heard that my mom had shot herself. I told her no way.

I remember going back to my grandma's house and wondering. I am not sure how much time passed but eventually my curiosity got the best of me and I looked in the metal safe where my dad kept all of the important paper. There I found my mother's death certificate. I will never forget reading the words on that page. I know my dad thought he was protecting me by telling me she was sick and nothing more. But reading a death certificate is a rather graphic retelling of a story. I am certain I would have been better off hearing from my dad. It was true. What my friend said was true. My mom had shot herself.

I won't go into detail, but I can say ever sense instead of being filled with sadness, I tend to resort to anger. I am certain that she had been suffering from depression for several years and failed to ever seek help. I am certain that this event blindsided everyone. But what I know as a daughter and now as a mother is that a life without a mom is a tough road. I have always felt that by committing suicide she took the easy way out. It all seems so selfish. Sure she now was gone and she ended her pain but what about the rest of us left behind? What about her girls?

Before you all begin commenting please know that I in my heart do know that my mother was suffering from a deep depression and was likely not in her right mind when she did this. I know that she loved us. It doesn't make the pain any less. I find it hard to remember her fondly and strive to be nothing like her. I am mad that she never experienced any of the important events in my life and that my kids will never have their Grandma. I am angry when people say that my mom is likely in Heaven holding my boys. I am angry because I don't think she earned that right and I also am not sure I believe Heaven is where she resides. That is between her and God and I am just not sure.

This post may have been hard to read and I am sorry for that. The emotion is kind of raw and has been for twenty years. So I guess before when many of you asked about post partum depression I may have taken it a little hard because of my past. Because I strive not to be like my mom. I am keenly aware of the symptoms of depression and my doctor and I are on the lookout to be sure I don't end up in that same place. Depression runs in my family. My mom lost a son before she had me and many say she was never the same after that. My grandmother also suffered from clinical depression. This is why my dad is always so worried about me.

The thing is God says, Do not despair!

I believe in God and I believe in his word. I know that when I come to the end of my own rope, that is when I lean on him the most and that is when great things tend to happen. When I have given up my last bit of fight and can do nothing but be still and know He is God, a peace overcomes me and I am able to grieve with hope. Knowing he will use me and my family for great things. Knowing that there is so much more to life than what we know. So much more than the life we live here on this earth. I never really got to know my mom, and am actually considering deleting this, but this blog thing has been really healing for me so I doubt I will. this is probably something I should have gotten off my chest a long time ago.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Phillipians 4:13