On Mothers

I had the most wonderful mother. She was beautiful inside and out, and she loved me and my siblings like crazy.

She was an Elizabeth Taylor look alike, without all the diamonds of course. My mother never had diamonds. She never had much of anything, except for kindness...a wonderful heart, integrity, honesty...and love for her entire extended family.

She was raised in a very loving home. My grandparents were always there...always supportive. I was born out of wedlock in 1953. A time in small town Ontario where this would get you stares and snickers and many things whispered. She kept me...she loved me, and made sure I knew just how much. My grandparents loved me well too....and supported my mother through that trying time.

My mother married when I was a few months old. Not to my father, who was in Korea at the time, but to someone else. The support she received from her family wasnt enough to stave off all the guilt and shame she felt...so being married I think made her feel more " acceptable". My grandparents were against the marriage, for many reasons...but we know how that goes I guess.

My parents had 3 more children, and stayed married for 11 years. During these 11 years, I watched as my mother was beaten both physically and emotionally. My father had affairs...all kinds of ugly stuff when on. He drank...and she did a little too. It was awful growing up in that.

It was a different time than now. The laws did not protect women nor children. Nobody acknowledged child sexual abuse...hell...they didnt even acknowledge domestic violence. I saw that first hand when police would show up and tell my dad to "stop"...and for my mom not to make him so mad. Unbelievable....but so very true. There was no social network to fall back on. There was no place to go with your children....and she would never leave us. There was no welfare to help support us till she could get on her feet...and there certainly was no court or judge that would force a man to pay support. She felt stuck.

I know my grandparents would have helped, but you had to know my mother. She was filled with pride, and since making what she felt was a huge mess of her life...and seeing that her sisters had succeeded....did something to her spirit. She couldnt ask them...was ashamed now of being beaten. The ugly truth is that back then it was shameful....she must have done something to deserve it.

My mother met a man who told her she was beautiful and she was. He was kind to her. He loved her he said, and wanted to give her the life she deserved. She thought he was the answer to her prayers.

She left my dad...taking all of us with her. Now please understand, I loved my father. At this point I believed him to be my father in all respects. I was angry....I was resentful....I wanted my parents to stay together. God help me...I even wished my mom would just be good...so that my dad wouldnt get mad....so that he would stay home more....and we could all stay together. It was not to be.

Later....I will write more of my own story of this time...but this story is my mothers.

My mothers new "partner" turned out to be every bit at bad as my father. Worse in many ways from my perspective because I didnt love him. It didnt take long before he was doing things to me, that no grown man should ever do to a 12 year old girl. It didnt really shock me, as similar things had happened throughout my childhood, when my dad would bring strange men into our home....when the night was long and dark, and nobody was up...except for the "stranger".

I was always filled with so much guilt. What was I doing wrong....why were people like this with me. To this day, a box of Black Magic chocolates makes me sick to my stomach. I rush past the section in the store that sells them for this reason.

Anyhow....my step dad beat my mother...again, physically and emotionally. I watched this beautiful woman grow so small. I watched her become isolated from everyone except her kids.

I loved her so much...wanted her so much to be happy and would have done anything to make it so. I never ever told her about the abuse at her husbands hands. I could not. I will tell you this though....that if I had, I know this would have been the very thing that would have pulled her out of whatever pit she was in, and she would have done something. I would always be chosen over him...and I knew it then, and I know it now.

As I got older....I became far too afraid to tell. Not because of my mother, but my youngest brother. He was only 2 when they got together, and for all intents and purposes he was his son. My brother loved him very much....and step dad loved him. I was a coward and did not want to lose my brother, nor did I want to hurt him.

I went through times when I was angry and resentful. Very much so in fact. I had therapy...years of it. I went to University and studied Social Work. I fit. It was good.

I have worked hard for the last 35 years to get some perspective. I discovered that I dont feel much different today than I did back then in regards to my mother. Did she protect me? She tried...she failed. She failed at a great many things. So did I. I have 2 kids....and I made huge mistakes.

They tell me that no matter what, they knew they were loved...and that they love me very much. Do I wish my life had been different? Thats a hard one. I surely didnt enjoy being abused, but if God had asked me before I was born who I wanted my parents to be, I would still choose the ones I had.

My mother and father (not step dad) did the best they could with what they had. They tried. Thats all any of us can do. I dont even want to think about what it would have been like when I lost my mother, if I was filled with anger and rage. That stuff eats your soul.

As a therapist, I have never ever told a client they needed to "get over it"...."let it go" ...."forgive".....and so many more imbecilic comments. I have not forgiven my abusers...but I do believe I have found a place to put the pain, and the rage. I have used it over the years to my and other peoples benefit, and it has served me in that respect. It has made me more vulnerable to others pain...and that is a good thing in my book.

My anger is reserved for the truly guilty....for the perpetrator. Today...he is well aware of how I feel. Today, I hold the power....such as it is. I dont want power really....just peace, and I am getting there.

Mom....I miss you every day. There is hardly a day goes by that I dont think of you, and wish you were here. I am sorry I didnt tell you all the things you deserved to know. I am sorry I hid things from you. I am pretty sure some of it was selfish on my part, because I couldnt stand the thought of seeing that type of pain on your lovely face. You know my heart mom....you know that I believe....I know where you are....and that you are at peace. I know we will be together again. Until then rest easy, knowing that I am not angry with you. I forgive anything that needs forgiving....and I only remember the good times you and I shared. Every time I take a holiday, I smile...and tell Mike about all of the things you and I did on vacation...the laughs we shared....the love we shared....even the getting lost.

Much love
Casey