Let’s get something straight here people. My mother was not like a mother to you…I happen to know exactly how many people grew up under my mother’s roof…and unless you happen to be my sister (which I am pretty sure you are not). My mother was not your mother.
She may have loved you…and taken you under her wing…but she was not your mother. You did not endure her mood swings and her insipid boiled vegetables. We did not swap food on the dinner table (and so between the two of us eat a complete plate of food).
My mother did not raise you…you did not have your teenage mood swings and frustrations at her. My mother did not try to overcome the legacy of her child abuse in raising you.
And please, don’t tell me, how I should be feeling right now…and all of your memories of my mom. If I want to talk about her I will. But I do not need to hear from you about how wonderful a mom she was.
I certainly do not need to hear from you about how alike she was to her mother…especially, since I am assuming you do not know what an awful person my grandmother could be…and how abusive she was towards her eldest daughter. Also, please don’t tell me how alike I am to my mother…especially when you do not know me from Eve.
I know that you mean well when you are telling me all of these things…but also, please do not dissolve into a puddle of tears about how terrible your loss is on my mother’s passing.
Because, and I know I am being selfish and probably politically incorrect, in saying this: My loss is greater. (If you are my father or sister you are exempt from this statement…but considering the fact that my father and sister do not even know this blog exists, I digress).
I know more about my mother then you do…perhaps you only saw her at her best…the truth is, as her family we saw her at her best and at her worst and at most stages in between.
And also, please don’t tell me how I must be feeling, and don’t say things like “You must be devastated.” Because surprisingly, I am mostly at peace with my mother’s passing. And if you are Catholic…please don’t tell me that my mother must have died because God needed another angel in heaven, because if you believe that you seem to be very confused about your religion’s theology…People do not become angels when they die.
I know you mean well when you tell me all of these things…but the truth is, what I need from you…is a bit of space and understanding. If I never knew you in life, please don’t expect me to become bosom buddies with you now that my mother has passed.
Oh, and also, my mom was cool with the fact that she was pretty much the only person in our family who went to church…you really did not need (and do not need) to harp on about the fact that you have never seen my father in church on Sunday. If my mom had an issue with it…she and my dad would have worked it out…they didn’t…they had an understanding…and if you don’t mind me saying so…it is actually none of your damned business.
I know you mean well…and I know that you will miss my mom…we all will. But please, think before you open your mouth next time.