Unconditional Love

There is a time or a place where you can remember the unconditional love you had for your parents began.  There is a moment that you can place as your first true memory. What age was it for you?

Looking back, I was about 5-6 years old. I really don’t remember my mom at all before then.

I mean I remember her dropping me off at school and picking me up in Kindergarten and 1st grade, but that’s pretty much it. Where was she? Why can’t I remember? I may never know the answers to those questions.


My mother just passed away September 24th. It was sudden. It was fast. It is unbelievable. It wasn’t that long ago that I wrote about the stages of grief. I think with my mom, I am cycling through them all at once, over and over again.


There have been times in my life I have looked up to my mom, hated my mom, wished she was dead, and feared her death. Then here it is. She is actually gone. Where do I even begin to grieve?


How do I grieve? She made loving her so hard to do at times. She was always so negative. She was so harsh and unkind. She was nice to peoples faces and would talk trash about them behind their backs. Yet at her memorial and in the event of her death so many people were like, I’m so sorry for your loss, she was such a sweet lady. My head spins with each of those comments because I am like, “you and I aren’t talking about the same woman”.


Even though growing up I was physically and mentally abused, in the end I really loved this woman so deep and unconditionally.


It is so depressing to think never again will I hear her call me fat or gossip about the only people who even helped her at all. I will never hear her complain about her computer not working or even asking me every other day if I was going to bring my kids to see her soon. She is gone. What do I do now? Both of my parents are dead. I have no one left. No one to go visit. No place to visit and no grandparents for my kids to grow up learning about. How do I even begin this new life?

My mom was a real life Weezer off Steel Magnolias. Except she wasn’t as funny.


I just got back on good terms with her. I had seen her 3 times in 2 months. (I went 2 ½ years before that) I finally was making peace with the past and just trying to love my mother for who she was and not who she used to be. I wasn’t done making memories with her. I just took her to the beach this year. I wasn’t done giving my girls the opportunity to know her as a sweet grandmother.

My oldest are only 5. They will never remember her and my youngest two , well there’s not a chance that they will have any true memories of her. Just writing this makes me feel sick to my stomach. I will never smell the pungent smell of stale cigarettes or hear her say I love you. I will never be able to hug her again.


I feel guilty of the words I have spoken to her in anger. “I wish it were you instead of daddy” hearing her reply “me too”.


How can I forgive myself for saying something so damn hurtful? I knew better! Did she deserve it? In my mind at the time, yes. Now? I feel I overreacted a bit. She broke my heart. I wanted to retaliate. I never felt loved by this woman. I never felt like I could ever count on her. I tried and tried to make her proud and nothing I ever did seemed to ever be enough.  Yet I loved her. I loved her so unconditionally it hurts. Yes it’s only been a week but the pain is so deep my whole body feels heavy. Breathing in, my chest feels so heavy and my mind is full of dread. I constantly feel the need to cry but the tears just don’t fall.


In her death I feel relief.

Relief that maybe the family can learn to get along and not have someone constantly pinning people against each other. Relief that for once I can have a relationship with my own sister without her nitpicking or finding way to make us feel more inadequate than the other.


In her death I feel despair.

Utter sadness and despair that my mom, the reason for my entire existence s gone. The beginning of my life’s story. The creator of me is gone. How do I cope with that? I owed my love to her because without her bringing me into this world, I wouldn’t be living the life I have today with a husband and kids.


In her death I feel guilt.

The extreme guilt of I treated her like shit since daddy died. Not that she didn’t bring it on herself with lies and rumors, but it was my choice as to how I dealt with it and I should have dealt with it a lot different. Or at least in my mind I feel like I should have. I feel guilt that I didn’t bring my youngest the very last time I saw her. Guilt that I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to go see her the week before she died. That she was on my mind for 4 damn days prior to her death and I was just too busy in my own feelings to listen to my Intuition.


There’s so much guilt.


So here I sit writing an entire blog post at 1 am because I am full of guilt and pain and it is probably going to be my longest blog post to date!

There’s so much context I am leaving out but I really don’t want to turn my mother into a villain. Even though Cruella was a close comparison. I just can’t make sense of any of this.


Even though I have never felt a true relationship with my mother I am mourning the loss of her life as if she was my everything.  That is unconditional love. I loved her dearly even through the toughest of times. I am full of sorrow as if she was the best mother in the world.

My first true positive memory of her was her making books for me as a small kid (4-6 years old) , she would type up stories using a typewriter and bind the pages together with ribbon. She knew how much I loved books and we couldn’t afford to buy them so she made them. This is the mama I want to remember. The one who deserved the unconditional love I can’t help but to mourn for.


I mourn the loss of the mama I used to have. The one who’s life didn’t bog her down and turn her bitter. I mourn the loss of the mama I once knew and yearned for. The woman who didn’t become mean and openly judgmental. I mourn the loss of the mama I felt safe with and whom I could count on. The mama I once knew. The great mom. That’s who I want to remember.

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