Questions for my mother Part 4: Why did you push me away?

Yesterday I was going through some dusty files and found an old letter from my mom sent in 2004. It was a note apologizing for how she had acted the night before on the phone. I don't remember the conversation, but she said that she had no right to 'judge my decisions'. She was coming out to California for a visit and I was only going to be able to spend a few days with her because I had just gotten a new job and had to travel for a training. I had to be at the training, or forfeit the position.

Damnit. If I'd only known then that my time with her would be so limited... I remember leaving my aunt's house to head out of town. My mom was standing on her deck watching me as I got into my pick-up to drive away. There was this sad, ominous  look on her face that is forever imprinted in my mind. Two months later she called with the news that her cancer was back (she'd been clear for 16 years) and metastasized.

The letter is typed on blue paper (I think it's the only thing she ever sent me typed) and signed "Love you enormously, Mom" at the bottom in blue ink. Her words were supportive and loving. I sobbed in the garage for a while after I found it. Guilt. Anger. Sadness.

I long to truly know my mother. Everything changed when I had children myself. I think about her constantly. There are so many things I want to talk to her about. There are so many things I feel like I understand about her now. I wish I could share them with her.

I wonder why she pushed me to be fiercely independent so soon. I know that I was challenging. I can see myself in my own children, and after spending my days with a sensitive, intense, argumentative preschooler, I understand how hard it is. But I grieve the fact that we didn't have a closer relationship when I was young. I wish she had held me tight more often and told me that I was okay.

She did the best she could at the time, and I don't blame her. It is so hard to be a mom.
I always knew she loved me.

I'm just really feeling the loss.

I know...I have to be 'grateful for the time we had together' etc., etc.... but you know what? sometimes I NEED to feel the loss--deep  in my bones and in the hollow of my throat. Sometimes I want to wail like a banshee and then curl up on her lap and let her rub my head. Sometimes I just want my mom.

Thanks for listening...
xo