169: My Mother

 So, as I wrote in Entry 166, my mother passed away in October 2020. I argued then that, because of the atmosphere at home, I did not really have the mood to write about this at the time. But I note that it took me a few months to get around to writing about my father as well.

Why is this? Guilt, because I was undoubtedly stand-offish and not very nice to both towards the end of their lives? Taking time to 'process'? I don't know.

I never saw us as a particularly close family. The word 'love' hardly ever passed between us - and I am talking about me here, not my brother and his relationship with our parents.

It was in 2012 or so I think, when I played a part in helping my uncle and cousin reconcile over some fairly serious issues that were threatening to tear them apart, that ma wrote, 'I also feel very proud that you are my son  - who has the compassion and understanding that everybody should have but they don't. Lots of love, Ma.' That was probably the only time that that word was shared. With both my parents I had a convivial relationship and I probably listened too much to what they had to say - making life choices that, in retrospect, I should not have. (which is not to say that alternative choices would not, in turn, have made me think that I should have listened more!!)

Through all my troubles, not once did they speak to me, once I had shared with them - and I only shared because my wife had written to my cousins behind my back about how horrible I was. My mother did share a letter I think - which I threw away - that basically said, 'you have to carry on, just like I did.'

And that did not work out wonderfully well for her really. Ma completed an autobiography before she passed away and there is significant ill-feeling against her husband and her mother about choices imposed. In my case, 'imposed' would be too strong a word but, for sure, there was a level of certainty and a set of fixed ideas that did not move over half a century - there was very little grey. And I wish I had been invited to share some of the grey, to consider some of the pros and cons of situations - whether university, work, marriage etc.. 

I 'own' every choice and every door that I went through but the relationship between my parents and me was 'transactional'. In the early years I was influenced by them but never looked to them for advice or have them act as confidants. They were dutiful parents who provided wonderfully well for their children and others, and I believe I was a dutiful son in return.

So, do I miss them? To have a conversation now and then - yes, I miss them. Just to have them around - yes, I miss them. Simply to have them healthy and happy - yes, I miss them. But this is not the great love affair that other kids seem to have with their parents - and I am sorry for that. In the end, perhaps, I miss the 'essence' of them and the 'idea' of them more than feel an emotional or physical loss. Nevertheless, I will be forever grateful for what they did and what they were and the benefits that I have accrued.

Rest in Peace.