I noticed my mom had lost weight. She's always been slim. She discusses weight issues of others and frequently discusses her diet. I have been vaguely unsettled about her weight loss, but wondered if it's because of my own weight gain.
But colon cancer? I didn't see that one coming.
My mother has been a complex character for me. Growing up, she wasn't social. Our outings were going to the grocery store. (I remember her smoking while shopping, and throwing the cigarette butt on the ground and crushing it at the end of an aisle.) She'd always have the inevitable case of beer on the bottom of the shopping cart. I knew few friends of hers. We didn't have dinner parties.
She made me so angry. She told me things like "I had you to save my marriage with your dad. But you were a girl so it didn't work." Or "You would be so pretty if ________________." The blank was always something I had no control over.
Then, the darkest of days came. After finding that my stepfather had an inappropriate relationship with me, she left me and moved 2 states away with him. Her actions were evidence to my hypothesis that she ever loved me.
After decades of no to little communication, she moved back to my home city. Her new husband needed an environment like ours due to health reasons. Not "I missed you." Not "I wanted to know your children."
Obviously, she was an unhappy, sick woman. This became more evident when she attempted suicide 3 times in a few short months. Visiting her at the Pavillion prompted me to say to her doctor "She's unhappy with herself. She drinks to self-medicate. Something is wrong with this woman."
My husband and I drove her to a treatment facility a few hours away. We took her husband several weeks later to visit. She seemed like the same uptight, uncomfortable person. Maybe she was't drinking, but she still wasn't right. Anxiety? Depression? What was it?
Time went by. Maybe she drank after treatment, maybe she didn't. I realized it wasn't my issue. It was her demon to fight.
But, she started attending church. She began to understand Jesus and his gift to us. She began to make friends. She got a job and was happy. Who was this woman?
My siblings had cut her out of their life. They didn't want or need that dysfunction anymore. I felt obligated to be a part of my mother's life. It was my burden to bear. I was an unwilling participant, the martyr.
My mother and I started doing things together. Choir, mission trips to China and the Dominican Republic. Even a girls weekend in Santa Fe. I realized that this woman was not the same person she was 5 years ago. Out from under the fog of alcohol, she blossomed. She made friends without me. She didn't HAVE to have me in her life, but WANTED me in her life.
My pastor seems to talk to me during the sermon every week. It's like God says "Michelle needs you to say ____________ so she can grow in her walk with Jesus." It's quite annoying at times, and makes me hold my pastor at arms length. I feel like I am so close to Dr. Batson, but I can't even talk to him because I feel he can see darkness in my flawed soul.
One week, Dr. Batson shared a forgiveness sermon. Again, he was speaking to me. I was choosing to use my horrible childhood as a shield to protect myself. I was a martyr to no one. Trying to be friends with my mother and resent her was only messing with my psyche. I had to let it go. Let go of all the resentment, anger, and ugliness that consumed me. I prayed. I prayed like I'd never prayed before. And, I let it go.
It was beautiful to let it go.
So, I opened my heart to love my mother. She is not the woman who raised me. She is a uniquely different person. And I love this woman.
And now she has cancer.
I know it doesn't have to be a death sentence. My own husband is thriving, and he was expected to die 6 years ago. But, my mom's cancer gives me pause.
But I am joyful that she knows Jesus. Thank God.
