Loss

Today is my mother's birthday. She is 61. I don't know where she is.

I have spent many years processing various aspects of this painful part of my life. First, logistics. I can't be a part of (or a solution to) her chaotic daily life. Second, boundaries. I have to protect myself from the things in life that hurt me repeatedly, even if that thing is my mother.

Now, after all these years, I am feeling just a sad longing for what I lost...what could have been...but what, really, I know, never was going to be. In one of those moments, I wrote a letter to my mother. It is a letter I haven't sent and would not send even if I knew where to send it.

But I will share it with you all here because what I am slowly coming to terms with is that these things I long for are things I can give myself and things we can give each other. Wisdom, kindness, and strength are within us all.

Dear Mom,

In a parallel universe I am calling you all the time. I am asking you what to do when your 10 year old tells you he is too fragile to handle something socially challenging, but your gut tells you that the very thing he needs is not a pass from dealing with it but requiring him to deal with it anyway. I am asking you what to do when you feel you are striving for so many things in life but really everything you have ever wanted you have and have it in abundance but can't seem to slow down to fully enjoy it. I am asking you how to trust your gut. I am asking for advice on parenting when you realize, "wait, this isn't a forever thing...this having tiny dependents...it is a time-limited and increasingly seeming short period in my whole life." I am asking you how to shake off naysayers and let go of pernicious negative self-talk. I am asking you how to keep going even in the face of cruelty in this world. I am asking you how to hold on to hope when every bit of news seems to tear it down. I am asking you if I really can make a difference given all the sadness in this world. I am asking you how to fully embrace being authentically you while still being a good enough mother, a good enough partner, a good enough friend, a good enough worker, and a good enough citizen. I am asking you how to balance seeking out fulfillment of passionate priorities with reality and the hours and energy in any given day. I am asking you how to be kind to yourself when you feel you could have done more, done better, gone farther, been kinder, been wiser.

These are some of the things I would ask you if you were reachable and available to me as a mother. Some days I could really use a mother and I miss having one and I miss you.

I love you.

My mom is in jail. And that is the good news.

It has been one year since I posted here. That is a long time even by my sporadic blogging tendencies.  This morning, however, I found myself writing a letter to my mother in jail. The emotions around addressing my card to inmate #910018 left me swirling.

In the last few days, I not only found out my mother is an inmate, but I also turned 40. I not only remember my mother at 40, but I was a huge part of her daily life at that age, when I was 20. After my step father left I almost dropped out of college to be with her and my sister as my mother, as well as daily life of the house, was in such turmoil. My mother has never been able to steady herself, always relying on those around her. Sometimes this is more pronounced than others and sometimes that reliance is on a child, which is a lot for a child to take on, and they really have no choice. The guy who totally has had a choice and has been providing her steadiness for the last couple of years has been in touch with me in these last few months.

His communications with me have been presumptuous, ignorant, self-important, martyred, and aggressive. He claims to fully understand what is going on with her after hearing only her take on things claims to know me well as a results of that, and therefore know what I should do. Important note: if you tell me you really get what is going on with my mother, yet you don't seek verification on details from those she slanders, you do not get it. It is incredibly irritating and he has impeccable timing, always when I am in the midst of something else that requires a lot of emotional strength. But that is just my good luck, I suppose.

Here is the latest email I received, the title of which was "Happy Birthday!":
Hi,

Your mother wishes you both Happy Birthdays, I believe you are 40 today and your sister is 28 now.

I was able to successfully petition for your mother for treatment, in this state referred to as a sec. 35 civil committment, even though I was not a family member. The treatment is not ideal, but is better than having her on the streets. She is being held at the MCI Framingham, a medium security prison while awaiting transfer to the Women's Addiction Treatment Center in New Bedford. She was here before and she said she liked it but they tore that building down and now is locked in a jail cell. Hopefully she will be transferred soon. (This is a civil matter, she has not been charged with any crime.) 

Thank you.

So, I'm just going to go on the record here and say I think that this email title was a tad misleading. Or maybe not. Maybe this is a good birthday message, given the sad state of things.

There have been many moments when I had little idea where my mother was and feared she was in another desperate and scary situation. In those moments I wished for her to be locked up somehow, a treatment center, jail, anything, to keep her from being in potentially very dangerous situations and to protect her from her own choices that continue to lean towards self-harm. So on that count I am glad she is locked up.

But, then, there is the woman I also remember who is fierce and brilliant and funny and passionate and vibrant and she is also in jail. And my heart does break for her. I wish for a different life for her. I want a different ending to this story for her. It kills me that I cannot control it and have worked long and hard on this piece over the last 20 years. Instead of belaboring my lack of control here, I will instead share my wishes for her:

Mom, I wish for you health and mental clarity.
I wish for you safety and comfort.
I wish for you hope for the future.
I wish for you moments of joy, love, and connection with others.
I wish for you logistical, financial, and emotional stability.
I wish for bright tomorrows for you.