Another Day, Another Cuckoo Nest
March 10, 2006
I am overwhelmed by all the supportive comments and nice emails. Honestly, overwhelmed by how nice people are. I do read every single comment and every single email and I appreciate each and every one of them. I couldn’t possibly respond to each one, but I thank you all.
This experience has been surreal. Thankfully I have my dark sense of humor to get me through.
Mother: “When I die (name of cousin) is getting my cat.”
Me: “That’s nice. He likes cats.”
Mother: “You can not have my cat.”
Mother: “You can’t have my cat. I already decided that (name of cousin) is getting him.”
Me: “I do. not. want. your. cat.”
Mother: “Why? Why don’t you want my cat? He is a beautiful cat.”
Me: “Do you want me to want your cat? Is that what you want?”
Mother: “You can’t have him. Are you crying? I can hear you crying. You can’t have him. He won’t like you.”
Me: “No, I was laughing, because I really do not want your cat.”
Yesterday morning my mother was admitted to the psych ward at her local hospital.
I found out yesterday from my step sister that my mother also has an intestinal blockage. She was hospitalized for it at the end of December where she was told she needed surgery. She refused the surgery and left the hospital against medical advice. Her surgeon told her that without the surgery she will die.
Since that point in time she has basically stopped eating and drinking and has lost 50 pounds. In the past week she has resigned herself to die.
Wednesday when she wanted to talk to me it was because she felt like she would be dying soon. She wanted to make sure that I knew I was disinherited before she died.
The wedding thing throws me a bit, though I think now she was using the word wedding to mean funeral. She wanted to control how things would be after her death. One last stab at being controlling by trying to control how we all act after she is gone. Or was it just her last chance to make me feel bad and let me know what a disappointment I have been.
And I do feel bad. I feel bad for the life she chose for herself. I feel bad that she could never find true happiness. I feel bad that even during her darkest times she feels the need to drag me down. I just feel bad.
Last night I was sitting on the couch with my ten year old watching American Idol (yes we watch it, our dirty little secret) when a commercial came on for one of those wife swap shows.
“I would never want to be on that tv show.” he had said.
“Yeah, me neither.” I laughed, thinking of all the things my kids could be coaxed into saying about me. And also about all the emails I get from the producers of the show. Enough already, people! I will never ever agree to go on your show. My dignity has a much higher price tag than you can afford.
“There could never be a mom as nice as you.” he said.
I looked at him and for a minute wondered if he was joking or being sarcastic.
“Do you really think that? Do you think I am a nice mom.”
“Of course I do. I think you are the best.” he answered looking at me, “Don’t you think you are a good mom?”
I try, baby. God knows I try.
Things might still turn out different for my mother. I asked my step sister if we could get my mother declared incompetent and force her to have the surgery without her explicit consent. But that raises all sorts of ethical dilemmas that I am not sure I want to wrestle with.
Regardless, I know how it will play out now. She will never be the mother I wanted or needed. It is time for me to let go of that. She is what she is. We will never have a relationship other than the one we have right now. I’m okay with that, I think.
It’s time to let go.
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