February 9th

Well, here we are again, the beginning of the year. My newly-discovered cousin had a birthday this Wednesday, on the 6th. My late mother’s birthday is on the 9th. Oddly enough, my cousin not only has a birthday near my mother’s but she also greatly resembles her. Like, everything but the nose. That, she got from her mother. But everything else, it’s a little freaky.

It’s been three years since mom passed (March 6, 2005), and I no longer spontaneously break out in tears…much. I miss her, but then, I missed her for a good 10 years before she died. She’d basically left me around then, even though she was still around.

The last few years are best forgotten. Not because of her physical condition, more because of the things she would say to me. She was always a bit odd, passive aggressive and paranoid, and I guess spending all that time with nothing to keep her company but her TV just made those traits come out all the more. The last thing she said to me was “You’ve got a beard.” Well, probably not, but I ignored what she said after that.

I felt no guilt about that last exchange, there wasn’t anything I could have done about it. She’s the one who said those words, not me. She’s the one who had to live with the knowledge that she intentionally said hurtful things to her only daughter. I’d already started to make my peace with her long before. Customary to blame one’s parents for all the things that have gone wrong in their world. She wasn’t perfect, but she did have her good points, and plenty of them. No one is perfect. I’m not. And I know that she’s part of the reason I never had children. I knew there was an excellent chance I’d be like her, and I wasn’t about to subject anyone else to that. Heck, she’s also part of the reason I’m single now. Both directly and indirectly.

But I’m not ascribing blame, not really. These are more statements of fact. I know I have my own mind and can make my own decisions. She didn’t make the decision to not have children, I did. She didn’t make the decision to stay out of romantic relationships, I did. I recognized her influence, and I recognized my ability and responsibility to take a different path if I didn’t want to follow. The path I chose was to remain childless. My extreme shyness is a greater influence on my lack of romance than anything else. Part of that shyness, though, stems from a belief that once anyone got to know me, it wouldn’t be long before they would regret it. And part of that, well, that does come from mom.

I can sit here and blame her for all my troubles, but that gets me nowhere. I choose instead to remember things that made me happy, that still make me smile. Things like time spent shopping or eating out, road trips and sledding, and game nights at home, particularly around Christmas time. I remember the scriptures we read before opening gifts on Christmas and eating candy on Easter. She wanted us to know what we were actually celebrating, to remind us that everything else was just fluff and fun. She complained about the way television was changing, how it was becoming more and more racy. Funny thing, she didn’t expect the networks to do anything about it, she did something about it herself. People today claim they don’t have time to pay attention to their children, they have too much to do. My mother was a single mother, working two jobs at times. She still had time to pay attention to what we were watching and doing. In other words, she was a parent.

She wasn’t perfect, but I know she loved me and my brother. There were lots of things she did wrong, but there were plenty she did right.

Miss you, mom. Happy Birthday.