I am a mother. That is plain and simple-most of the time anyway. But I am also a daughter. Or I was a daughter for a brief bit of time. Born into something too early and taken away or ‘left’ prematurely. Still a daughter but a ‘motherless daughter’ on so many fronts.
Since I lost my mother very early and her substitutes were not very good, I do feel like I raised myself for better or worse. Some good things have come out of this and probably some not so good things but overall I think things turned out okay with help from a few key people, including my Nan, that I will be forever grateful.
But just because things ‘turned out okay’ does not mean that it’s okay that I didn’t have a mother or that I didn’t really know my mother other than that she was gorgeous and sad. Too much life too quickly can drown even the strongest of souls.
Not having or knowing much about my mother made me want to find out as much as I could and that was mostly an uphill, often tedious, forever painful, long and frustrating journey. I got what I wanted though. For the most part I ‘got’ some truth and some layers peeled off the misconceptions, lies and more although there will always be layers left undisturbed but not for a lack of clawing on my part.
Everyone wants to know where and what they come from. I just don’t think you can convince me otherwise. And I’ve learned a lot over the years, about my mother, my middle name namesake. I’ve learned about her gifts and her demons, her triumphs and her failures and I am okay with all of it. It was more the not knowing and the skewing of the truth that upset me most.
I don’t know if I’ll ever know EVERYTHING. Maybe I don’t need to. But I do know that through the kindness of strangers and sometimes by accident or on purpose, I continue to pick up little pieces. Pieces that sparkle in the light of knowing. A knowing that I needed and wanted and really, feel was mine to know.
Throughout my journey to learn and know I would receive all kinds of information from many sources including
government agencies, hospitals, former friends of my mother, newspaper articles and more. I also received, after cautiously asking, some information from family members. Sometimes this information was good but often skewed by judgmental and personal opinions or agenda. But such is human nature right?
From one relative after I asked for confirmation about an incident at my mother’s funeral (I think the person that originally shared the incident was shushed shortly after) but this is what I received back:
“Your dear sweet Mother had quite a life. I know for certain that both of you rode the street car all night long when she and your father were together. You were quite young. Do not know the details of why, etc.
Your Grandmother loved both Carol and you very, very much. She had a terrible life. Yes, she loved to comb your Mother’s hair -it was beautiful. Maybe she did comb her hair in the casket. I brought eye shadow for ‘name removed’ to be put on because that is the way I remembered her and so did others.
Now Laurel, as I am sure Grandma Conroy, my Mother, etc. etc., would want you from this day forward to put all that has happened behind you unless there is a serious reason. I know dear that you have been through a lot, but, if you feel you would like to talk to a professional, think this is the time.
Last, but not least, you have a loving husband and 2 wonderful children. Please put everything behind you and go forward.”
Why do I need help and why do I have to put ‘everything behind me?’ Asking me to put my parents ‘behind me’ and my early childhood behind me? It’s utter nonsense and doesn’t mean I needed the kind of help suggested in the email. Help would have been great with information shared without judgement. That would be the type of help I needed
There were and continue to be A LOT of individuals that judge, repeat ‘stories’ that aren’t true or worse, won’t share what they know and on top of that judge me. They judge me without knowing and I’m okay with it now but I wasn’t always. I get it now-it’s their way of surviving and dealing with the situation. But it doesn’t stop me. I guess I have more of my mother in me than just her looks!
Happy Mother’s Day to my Mother, Carol Elizabeth-in heaven for those that believe and with a soul and spirit soaring and living the life that was cut short here on earth.
xo Lola
I was at the market today shortly before picking Brynn up. I just ran in for gourmet hotdogs (yeah, you read that right, gourmet) for a quick din as it’s a dance night. I get in line and am a bit caught up in what I bought and getting it all on the counter as I did buy much more than hotdogs. I’m tired, feel a migraine coming on and really just want to move through the line and out the door.
