“I miss my mom.” I can’t count how often that single phrase has ran through my mind. I could be in the middle of the most mundane of tasks, such as cleaning and all of a sudden, I’m missing someone I haven’t seen in over 30 years. For all of this time, I really only allowed myself to think of my mom in May. During the month of May, I would allow thoughts of the woman who not only gave birth to me but also raised me for the first 10 1/2 years of my life. I gave myself permission to miss her and think of her. It’s not that I didn’t want to think of her, it was too painful to think of her. There was too much pain, anger, and confusion. Where was she? I hope she got off drugs. If she got off drugs, why hadn’t she looked for us? She’s living her life and I am going to live mine. I never doubted that she loved me but still I was angry with her. Where was she? When thoughts of her crept up throughout the years, I shoved them down.
Finding out that she didn’t walk away but was taken away has caused some of the same feelings: pain, anger and confusion. Pain that I will never see her again. The hope was snuffed out with that one confirmation. Anger that she was brutally murdered and unnamed for over 30 years. Confusion because now I have to reconcile the anger I felt for 30+ years at her absence. Now when thoughts of her creep up, I can’t shove them down. Immediately I remember that she’s gone. When I am asked where my mom is, I can no longer say, “I don’t know. No one has seen in over 30 years.” Now the answer is, “oh she was murdered 33 years ago but we just learned about it.”
Since finding out, I’ve also felt cheated. My family and I have been cheated on so many levels. We were cheated of having her in our lives today. She was taken before any of her kids became adults. She never got to meet any of her grandkids or great grandkids. They would never know the amazing, caring and loving woman she was. They would never hear her signature whistle or experience the brilliance of her smile. I would never again feel her arms embrace me or hear her tell me she loves me. I would never get to tell her how much I love her.
We were also cheated on justice for her. The likelihood of finding out who murdered her is almost slim to none after all this time. Maybe if we had known what had happened to her when it happened, the cops could have interviewed people who knew her or that area and get some leads. But that wasn’t done. Her case was discarded as carelessly as she was. We will most likely never know who did this or why.
I also feel cheated on grieving. I feel the grief of knowing she’s really gone but it was 33 years ago. I don’t even know how to grieve the woman who I loved with all of my being. Ive spent so long trying not to think about her to avoid the pain of not knowing where she was. I know where she is now and I have to catch up with 33 years of grief.
I missed my mom for the last 33 years and I will miss her for the rest of my life.
I nodded while I read each sentence as it echoed my own feelings of anger, betrayal, confusion, love,loss, etc. To know her was to love her and while I'm unable to hate anyone, I hate the actions of the person who brutally and selfishly cheated us and the rest of the family of her presence.
ReplyDeleteAs a child, I was ashamed of her drug addiction,now I proudly tell everyone I am her daughter and like her I am stronger than my struggles. The pain of the sexual abuse and loss I've experienced does not define me. In fact, it made me who I am: a fighter, survivor and more importantly the daughter of Neida Esther Monge, the woman who gave us life and the will to survive in spite of or despite the world crumbling around us.
Thanks to you mom, I will always fight for what's right and teach my kids,your grandkids, to do the same. You instilled in us the pride of our culture and strength to go on.
I love you now and forever, my need for your has never diminished and will more than likely exist until my last day. Til we meet again.
Now you have me in my feels, dang you!
Dear Jackie, I have read your heartfelt blog post as well as Brenda's response. Both of you have an enduring love for your mother. You also have the lingering feelings of loss, grief, anger, confusion. What seems apparent to me is that both of you will survive the trauma of your mother's absence and the grim knowledge of her death because she is such a profound part of you. You never stopped loving her or missing her, even though for Jackie, May was the only time she let herself feel the deep emotions she had for your mother. From the moment I met you, Jackie, I knew you had an indomitable spirit that would carry you through life, especially through the extraordinary discovery of your mother and the simultaneous letting go of her. You found your mom and lost her again at the same time. It takes courage to accept both the beauty and the pain that exists at the convergence of finding and losing. Both of you are on a remarkable journey to keep your heart open to all the feelings that are emerging while knowing that your mother's beauty and courage reside in you. Keep writing, Jackie. Writing is the art of living and knowing; through it, you are seeking solace. You are a beautiful writer, so honest and thoughtful.
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