My Long-Lost Mother

4 years ago I wrote a letter to my dead mother. Come on now, stick with me here – it is not as sick as it sounds. Well, maybe it is but please hold your comments until you see how truly screwed up I am.

Recently a co-worker of mine lost his father, and this has drudged up many thoughts about what I went through with my mom, how I coped, how I didn’t cope. When I was looking through my archives and came across that letter to my mom, the sad memories flooded over me as if she only died yesterday. Why does that happen? How can that wound still feel so fresh? Amazing how the heart can appear healed, yet be so open to pain at the same time. Stupid emotions…who thought those up anyway?

Dear Mom,

It has been four years since writing my last letter to you, and 16 years since you left me – pregnant by the way in case you have forgotten (not that I am still bitter about that or anything). Life…hmmm, life is good. I still have a good job. I have two little boys who melt me into a puddle of goo every time I see them. And the girls are pretty much full-blown teenagers. Four kids. Who would have thought I would ever end up here? Did you?

Cassie has picked out a college (John Jay School of Criminal Justice in New York) and a career (CIA Field Agent – which scares me to the core, but lets not go there). Brittany is still struggling with the whole educational purpose of school, but is blooming in its social aspects. She drives me nuts. When I put the two together I see a lot of me in them – although apart each of them is very much themselves. It is hard to explain.

Roark and Cole are really too young to see much of their personality yet. They are just starting to understand how to express humor and anger – so we have many years before we see their true colors.

Todd is doing well. He finished his MBA and is working in a job that he likes most of the time. We both want to start our own business but have not figured out what that means. So for now we get up, go to work, come home – lather, rinse, repeat. It seems kind of silly not to have some grand plan for next week, next month, next year. I spent my childhood, teenage, and young adult years trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up – and I still have not really figured it out. I am a mother and a wife, but beyond that I don’t know what I REALLY AM. WHAT I REALLY WANT TO BE – TO DO. Does that make sense? Did you ever figure out who you were / what you wanted to do with your life? Did you ever figure out your purpose?

I have all of these questions still – things I need to ask you… Without a father around I really don’t have anyone to ask those things – nobody to give me that kind of advise. So I muddle through things and wonder why I am so lame that I still need my mommy.

All this to say that I still miss you.