Aunt Claire’s gift…

I lost track of time; I thought Mother’s Day was usually the second Sunday in May. I only realized it was this Sunday a couple of days ago. 

Growing up there were some years when my dad had to double up on gifts; my parent’s anniversary was May 14th, and it fell on Mother’s Day more than once. 

My father always got my mother a gift from me and the other child they adopted for Mother’s Day. My mother couldn’t understand why she didn’t get one from him until he told her, “because you’re not my mother.” That went over like a lead balloon. 😂

When our boys were small, it was our tradition that we would go to a garden nursery, and I would buy all my flowers, herbs, and vegetable plants. I would come home, and Marty kept an eye on the boys so I could plant my stuff in peace and however I wanted to.

This year my mother is no longer here. This is the first year I haven’t dreaded Mother’s Day for a month before. I could never give her the right gift or anything that she liked or expected.

Picking out a card was a whole other issue for me. I loved my mother when she was alive, and I still loved her now; I just didn’t like the person that she was to me. 

All the cards felt phony to me. Some made me almost gag; they were so over the top with sickening shit. Some years it took me close to half an hour to choose one.  

One year I came up with a solution to this problem. I would buy a card that said, “Happy Mother’s Day to the women who taught me how to be the mother I am today.” 

Of course, this was the first time my mother beamed when she read the card. She didn’t know that she taught me how to be the mother I am today by not doing or saying any of the things she did. I did everything opposite. 

This was a good compromise for me since I wasn’t lying by giving her some dripping with sugar card she wanted. It was true, and she perceived it the way she wanted to. 

I was never mean or hurt my mother mentally, emotionally, or just for the hell of it. That is not who I am, no matter how upset, broken, or fucked up she made me. 

Everything was carefully calculated and premeditated when it came to her actions and words to me. She was not like this to anyone else in the world—only me.

It wasn’t my imagination, or how I took things, Marty and my Aunt Claire, my Godmother, and my mother’s sister saw it happen repeatedly. Just before Aunt Claire passed away she apologized to me, which was the biggest shocker of my life.

She called me and said she wanted to say how sorry she was. She said everyone in the family saw and knew how my mother treated me, but no one ever said or did anything about it. 

This was one of the happiest days of my life!  I kept saying, “Really? Do you mean it wasn’t me all along? I wasn’t a bad kid or teenager?” She told me I was a good kid, so no one knew why she treated me poorly.

When my Aunt Claire passed away two weeks later, I cherished that conversation she had with me. It was the greatest gift anyone could have given me or will ever give me. 

Aunt Claire told me when we hung up, she felt better finally apologizing, but she never knew how important and life-changing that conversation was. It was unbelievable that I finally knew it wasn’t me after all; it was my mother. 

It’s still unbelievable to me to this day how fortunate for me that she told the truth shortly before she passed away from complications from her surgery. 

Her soul knew what was coming, and she died at peace. Before we hung up, she asked for my forgiveness. I laughed and said, “Oh, stop it; I don’t have anything to forgive; I have to thank you for telling me.”

I honestly didn’t plan to write about my mother or Aunt Claire today and the gift she gave me. I was going to write about the flowers I picked out this afternoon to plant on Mother’s Day.

These raw, emotional posts come out of left field; they start writing themselves. I’ve learned to honor them and let the story pour out. I’ve been holding on to them for a very long time. I am finding it is part of the healing and forgiveness process for me on my journey. 

Happy Friday guys!!! Have a great weekend! I will tell you about the flowers I got today next time. 🌺 🌸

***Marty just informed me that Sunday is the second Sunday in May. Boy o boy I did lose track of time!