As some of my long-time readers know, my mother was murdered last June. The man who did this still walks free. Such is the way of the world. Still, I find myself at odds at the way that I feel about this.
Most of you know that my mom was certainly no saint. Still, I feel that someone should mourn her passing. I have not shed a single tear for her. I may never do so. Therein lies the problem. For some reason, I feel that there is something "missing" in her death.
Certainly, her mother mourned the loss of this life. I have often heard it said that no parent should ever outlive their child/children. I can agree with that fact, having two children, and now, two grandchildren. I felt sorry for my grandmother as I listened to her on the telephone. I still feel bad for her even now when she calls me.
I can never tell her of my lack of grief for the loss of my mother. After all of the evil that she did when I was young, she was still the woman who bore me for nine months inside her own body. She could have ended the pregnancy at any time, I am sure of it.
Maternal care?? Sorry, mom just wasn't the type for that. She did, however, teach me to shoot, cuss, fight, throw knives, and who could ever forget the nights at the kitchen table drinking something called "vodka" with mom, at ages six and seven!! It looked like water, but tasted like liquid fire. I guess a drunk six year old is pretty damn funny!
Mom's "antics" didn't stop there. My first taste of "weed"? Dear old mom. At least she had nothing to do with me losing my virginity! I had a motorcycle at that time, so I took care of that. I learned to cook at a young age; it was out of need. There were five kids at home, and they needed to eat sometimes. I could also make coffe at the age of six. Mom liked two spoons of non-dairy creamer, and one spoon of sugar. I still drink mine black.
Maybe by remembering all of these things, I am, in some weird sort of way, grieving for her? It doesn't feel like it. It just feels like bringing up shit that I would rather forget. I don't pretend to understand such things. It is outside of my scope of things in this world.
I have read in the Bible that if you are lucky enough to make it to "Heaven", everyone will appear as strangers. I hope that is true. I would not want to put up with "Dear old Mom" in the afterlife for all eternity. But maybe we could have just a couple drinks of that stuff she called "Vodka".
Holla' If You Hear Me!!!
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