Hey Mom, I’m Sorry and I Forgive You

Hey Mom.

There’s some things I want to get off my chest. Things we’ve never really talked about. And sometimes, I wonder if they plague your mind like they do mine. It’s no secret we had a volatile relationship while I was growing up. But the relationship between a parent and a child is odd, ya know? No matter how much we hurt each other other, we just can’t let go. I felt wronged by you in so many ways. Because I was a teenager and I knew everything, right? There was no way you could have understood anything.

Dad left you when I was seven. I still remember that night vividly. It was the first time I ever saw dad cry. And, you know, for a while, I blamed you for that. I remember me and my siblings running up and down grandpa’s wheelchair ramp, while you and dad argued in the yard. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I didn’t understand why you guys were fighting. It was dark outside and probably close to summer. I remember how warm it was even though it was night time. And when you guys stopped arguing, dad never came back inside. I think he slept in the car that night.

Growing up, I was the smart one. The mature one. I made good grades. I helped with my siblings and the housework. I was the good kid. The one you bragged to your friends about. And I can’t tell you how much I lived for that praise. Because it meant you saw me. There was something that I did that caught the adults attention. But it was a double edged sword. Because when I couldn’t meet expectations, you were the first to tell me so. And I resented that. Sometimes, I felt like I always drew the short stick.

There were so many times when you would tell me no, only to turn around and tell my siblings yes. I felt burdened under the pressure I believed you were putting on me. And, for a time, I would blame you for my depression.

In my teenage years, I started crumbling under that pressure. We were constantly at each other’s throats. I was drowning. My depression was getting worse. I felt like you kept saving me just to hold me under the water again. How many times did say I was going to move out? How many times did you tell me to do it? Or what about all those times we fought over school?

Remember when you found out I was smoking? You had been suspicious for a while. You were pregnant with the youngest and had a super nose and you used to say “I can smell it on your breath Tiffany Dawn”. And the excuse I gave, “It’s because I kissed my boyfriend”. God, I can’t believe I said that. And do you remember how many times we fought about that older boyfriend?

All those times you said “I was a teenager once too” were true. And that’s crazy because obviously you were. But I remember so deeply believing that you could never understand how I felt.

You know, you said some really hurtful things to me. Sometimes I wonder I wonder if you still think about them. I know I said hurtful things to you. And I think about them all the time.

But as I grew up, became an adult, I started to look at you as a human first. And I think I get it now. Because you’re a human before you’re a mother. And I understand that, because of that, moms can’t always get it right. Not to toot my own horn, but when I look at my siblings now, I sometimes think that maybe I drew the long stick.

Then, when I became a mother, I could understand you on a level I never could before.

So, here’s what I really want to tell you mom…

When dad left you, I failed to realize you now had to do it on your own. The weight of being a single mom wasn’t something I could grasp until I became a mother myself. Losing your partner of ten years is something I can never imagine going through. I am a mother of one with a devoted fiancé. You’re a single mom of four. I lose my mind with just my single toddler.

So, I think I understand now. That pressure you placed on me was out of love as much as relief. And I understand your words came from a place of fear and not hate. When I think about it now, I imagine I would be much the same. Having one child that you didn’t have to worry about because you were already spreading yourself so thin… I get it. Life has not been easy for us. We have always been poor. Decent work was hard to come by. Regardless of that, you always managed and now you’re graduated with a master’s degree. You are truly something special mom.

And it wasn’t all bad, ya know. Because there are a lot of other things I remember growing up. Movie nights, shopping trips, and salon days. When I begged you to let me dye my hair black and we compromised on dark brown. I remember swimming at the bone hole and eating out at Owl Creek after you would pick me up from school on a sunny day. I remember driving down Copeland road in your little Chevrolet Cavalier, jamming out to 90s classics.

We both played our roles in our tumultuous relationship. But we never ever doubted the love in our hearts. That’s probably why it hurt so much back then. Life does get better. If I could go back and tell 16 year old me to just listen to you, I would. I would have saved myself a lot of heart ache.

So, mom, you were right. And I’m sorry. And I forgive you.

Because of you, I have been able to reach my goals. Because of you, I was able to understand unconditional love. And because of you, I exist.

Thank you mom. I love you.