Feeling It

Cancelled the appointment with the Realtor who had the perfect house for Mom and Dad.

Mom screamed at my Dad for an hour and half, slamming things around and slamming her hand on counter, table and wall!  When I called to confirm appointment, Mom screamed, "No, I'll start screaming again if you keep that appointment!'

Many of our friends are sympathizing with our circumstances.  They say things like, "Oh, I know. My mother/father/aunt got kind of mean when they got old too." OR "Our mother kind of lost it towards the end of her life, too."

Nobody gets that this is who our mother is. She is mean. She has always been mean. She has always been abusive. She has let it be known that her children and her husband, especially her husband are beneath her. We are and have always been a huge disappointment. She has always deserved better.

One Saturday afternoon when I was twelve, I had been reorganizing my closet. My clothes were all hung up and I was just stacking all the games in order of size to put back in when all three of us kids were summoned to the kitchen.

Mom made us stand by the television. She pointed to a large crocheted doily atop the doily and a pair of scissors laying on the doily.  One of the stitches had been snipped.  She demanded that the guilty kid step up and admit their vandalism.  My sister, brother and I just stood there, and stood there, and stood there. After a long stretch of time, she dismissed Mike and Sherree. She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the tv.

"You did this!" she accused. When I denied it, she pinched my upper arm with her nails and twisted.

"Don't lie to me. I watched you do it!'

"Mom, I've been in my room cleaning my closet!"

She kept accusing me of ruining her (quite ugly) doily and of being a liar. After about 5 minutes of informing me of my incredible shortcomings, she told me she would make sure my dad heard about my indiscretion and sent me to my room.

I was so frustrated that she didn't believe me, (remember, I was 12) that when I walked into the room I kicked the stack of games that were sitting on the floor! BIG MISTAKE!

Mom had this beautiful belt, it buckled in the back and had a gorgeous bronze sculpture of a sun on the front. Mom loved to beat my brother and I with the brass sun.

Well, I got a pretty good beating that day. She said when I kicked the game boxes over, I was actually kicking her.

While we were in the same house, Mom came down with pneumonia. She was bed bound.  I thought I would clean the whole house for her as a surprise. I washed the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, dusted the living room and then begin to sweep the kitchen and dining room floor.

Now, her bedroom was at the far end of the hall from the kitchen and around a corner. I was not sweeping in an outlandish way but gentle sweeps to keep the sweepings close. Mom came barreling down the hall, looking like the grim reaper. She was screaming (again). "You're trying to kill me! You are raising all this dust just to kill me!"

Yup, another beating, this one not so bad because she was weak from pneumonia.

When I was raped at 9 years old, she told me that no one would like me anymore and that we needed to make up a lie about why I was in hospital. She said I was damaged goods. Who does that?

I love my mother but she has always been mean. She just doesn't have the stamina anymore to pretend that she isn't mean. Even The Guy has been shocked at her behavior in the past 3 months because she has always been very sweet and loving towards him. She used to be able to hide her meanness or jab us with passive-aggressive comments that only had meaning to us kids or Dad.

She is now 89. She is demanding that she and Dad stay in a house way out in BFE. It isn't safe for him and it is a 45 minute drive to get to them in case of emergency.  A third of the drive is on windy, unlit roads. Dad is afraid to drive. His Parkinson's has made it so that he looks down at his feet to move them but often doesn't know which foot will move. He needs a walker or cane but Mom still insists he climb a ladder to change bulbs, that he pick up the 25 pound water bottles. She has even insisted that he drive to town if Sherree or I are not available (which is rare).  (Sidenote: His car is parked in my driveway and I am not taking it back to them until I know that my dad can say 'NO!" Honestly, Captain America would find it hard to say NO to Mom!).

Today, I am taking Rex and Lily for a walk. I am going to juice some fresh veggies. I may even prep our bedroom for painting but I refuse to let...

 Dang! Must be time to revisit my therapist. She always reminds me that I am a Kick-Ass Warrior. I need some of that Kick-Ass Warrior energy right now.

Okay, wish me luck...I'm calling to check in with my folks. What was that story about the tiger behind a door.