My Mom, My Everything

I really do not know what to write that will not sound cliché. There are no words that can adequately express my love and adoration for you, and yet, here I sit penning this "letter" to you.

You said to me the other day that you were sorry for not being a "good mom". I could not disagree with you more. You have endured more in a lifetime than most, and you have done so with such resolve it is mind blowing.

As a kid, I struggled when I watched your addiction to alcohol consume you. Rick and I would cringe when you would come home from work and casually pour a glass of Clan McGregor, on the rocks, and sit down in front of the telephone. I never fully understood all that you had been through, nor should I have. I was a kid and you shielded us from that side of your life. I had no idea that after you were adopted you were raped by your step father. You always painted my dad in the best light you could, despite your divorce, so I never realized how truly broken you were from his infidelity and your separation. Your bruises and scars were internal, so it was difficult to see the pain you were in.

When Richard killed himself and you were the one to find the mess, I was not sure if I would ever get you "back". The spiral was terrifying, though understandable, and I thought I had lost you for good. I would watch you drink and cry and cry and drink, unsure if you were going to make it. I was truly worried that you would take the same road as he did, ending your own life. Not that I could have blamed you! No mother should ever have to bury a child. It defies the laws of nature. Let alone the site of your firstborn dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound; I cannot fathom it.

I was incredibly proud of you when you woke up one morning determined to stop drinking. You said you were quitting, and you literally never took another sip. The resolve that must have taken is beyond comprehension. It is not like you were a social drinker; you drank to live and lived to drink. And then one day, it was over. I was so thankful.

Through all of this, there was never a single sporting event you missed for Rick or I. You showed up, always sober. You volunteered at school, you drove us to events, and you hosted killer birthday parties. You kept that part of your life so siloed that most people had no idea what was going on behind closed doors. That, in and of itself, was miraculous.

You were the best grandmother Alex or Lauren could have ever asked for. I think they were your redemption. You had held on to some false narrative that you were a "bad mom", and with them, you have a do-over. Let me be frank and just say, you were never a bad mom. You may not have been a perfect mom, but those are so few and far between that I think they are part myth and part god.

I sincerely want to apologize to you for all that I put you through in the wake of my divorce. I went from one bad relationship into a worse one, and I let that destroy not only me but all of the relationships I had, including those with you and the kids. I am beyond thankful for Britt. When he and I first started dating, he brought our little family back together. I am happiest spending time with all of you, and I have my husband to thank for that.

I also want to thank you for never giving up on me. After not speaking for three years and after my own suicide attempt, the hardest phone call I ever made was to you. I expected you to hang up on me, but not before reading me the riot act. You didn't. Instead, you were gracious and loving. You told me you never gave up on me, and you never stopped praying for me.

I love the relationship we have built in the last nine years. We are the healthiest we have ever been in my lifetime, and I am beyond blessed to call you my mom. I am sorry it has taken me so long to write you this, and I hope I did not say "too much". This was very cathartic for me, as I hope that it is for you.

I love you Mom.