A Letter to my Mother

We all have one, a Mother. The immaculate conception of bringing forth a life into this world. The bond that is formed when the fetus is carried, fed and nurtured in the womb of a Mother... I'm not yet a Mother but I do have one.

Mother's day was two weeks ago and I'm still mentally there. I wish I could tell my Mother how much I miss her. I wish I could show her how much she means to me. I've heard so many theories lately... I was born with the umbilical chord wrapped around my neck and it may be a karmic lesson... I'm not too sure what that means but I heard it from a Shaman. In my Mothers eyes, I was taken away from her at birth. I wouldn't be able to sleep in her arms, only in a stroller. I still find it hard to share a bed... I wasn't breastfed first, I was bottle fed first. I didn't get to feel her heartbeat like newborns usually do the moment they are birthed. We didn't get to bond.

We bonded after the divorce. We became like best friends. I didn't understand it then but you didn't like me spending so much time with my best friend at 13 years old, or at 14 years old. We had a short window of friendship in my preteens but you were a single Mother. And again, after the second divorce, we were friends. You would "borrow" my clothes and I didn't like it. This time I didn't want you spending time with another future Stepdad.

Why do we judge each other as women? Why don't we just ask the questions we want to know? Say the things we want to say, in the moment when it means the most? We grew accustomed to silence. Now, we live there. There are no amount of words for me to say or write that can make up for the time that passes each and every day you aren't in my life.

Today, the excuse is religion and me not living up to a commitment I made to God. One that was made prematurely to please you. Commitments aren't our thing, history would dictate. But I'm not here to judge you. In fact, I'm growing through this hurt and pain, it's called healing. My Spiritual Guide suggested I write this to you whether you read it or not. I can smile now because I have and I will continue to write to you because somehow I know that you can feel it. You know how much I care. I reached out in January in email but you didn't reply. That's ok. Just to know how much I care is enough for me to feel ok.

My feelings of anxiety, the disconnection I feel when I think of one day having a child of my own... A baby girl is what drives me to mend this relationship between us before it is too late. Covid was tough, you helped me and my bro. We know you care even in silence. Maybe I should try to see myself through your eyes... Why does that feel like an impossible feat? I've never asked and you've never said. Once, at my high school graduation pool party, I made a "confession." You jumped at the opportunity to say, "I knew it! I knew you were living a double-life." I moved out not too long after.

Love is support, that's what it means to me. In my eyes, love is security, that's what it means to you. Do you feel secure? Marriage meant security to you that's why you did it three times and wanted me to as well. I don't value security in anyone else. We might be fundamentally different but I know that if you were ever alone again, I would be there for you.

Your third husband allowed me and bro to live in one of his homes for 5 years. I remember one brief moment of insecurity where you thought your marriage would be over. I would like to think that you listened to me when I told you to stop running and to stay. "You have everything that you've ever wanted. You're not going to find it again. You're not young anymore." You used to tell your friends that I'm the Mother in our relationship. It makes me smile but still I wonder, who am I to you today? Can I just be your daughter?

I want to be the one to make mistakes without, "I told you so's." I don't want to be the one who gets married and divorced but if I did, would it make me more relatable? Would you feel more comforted if you saw more of me in you? I didn't go to your third wedding, do you still hold it against me? I think I said something like, "I'll be there for the divorce." When did we stop trusting and showing love to each other?

In every relationship I have, I look for you. No one can replace you. I don't care if the umbilical chord severed our bond at my birth. I was still there for 9 months. I'm still apart of you. I don't know what I would do if you weren't still here in the physical realm. I would never forgive myself for allowing this to continue. I need to know how to make us right. Not just for us but for generational trauma. I will continue to hold you near in thought and intention. I love you Mom.

I said those words to you once in the kitchen of our apartment when I was 14 years old. You were cleaning the house like you usually do almost like it will remove all the bad you're feeling. I stopped you and said it, you teared up and the words didn't come until I hugged you. You rubbed me on the back and said, "I love you Lily." I would do anything for moments like that again. With pure intention and not with years stacked against us. Those memories survive but will we?

I know what you want me to do to please you... Is that what you're asking of me to be your daughter? Return to a religion that I left? That you left twice before but returned to? Am I not allowed any grace? What of free will? Can't you love me if I'm free? Well, if it's one thing I inherited from you, it's this stubbornness. If I don't budge, neither do you... It's a stupid game... It's insanity. Your boundary is religion, I get it, I do but still I wish that I would be granted the same grace I gave to you. Why am I more forgiving than you are of you?

Are your wounds greater than mine? Do you stand before God with no excuse as to why your children do not serve Him the way you taught them to? Did you teach us to? Are these the questions that you ask yourself? Are these the questions that plague you at night? Do you worry that we won't "make it" or be saved at Armageddon? Isn't that beyond your control? What if there was no Armageddon, would you still not speak to me? Well, I do have faith, that's why I'm writing this... I hope that this finds it's way to your eyes and I hope that you... Respond, best you can. Is that really want I'm hoping for? Not really... What good is a response if it won't be received well? I hope that you are well. Please remember these words: You are not the enemy and I hope that I am not yours.