"I'm just so heart broken cause you aren't the child I raised anymore." ~ My Mom says through tears and speaking in tongues. (If you grew up Pentecostal like I did, you know what tongues is)
"Your sister and I watched old home movies, and the person I see before me now, is nothing like the girl I raised." She continued to cry. She put her arms around me. My little Momma, she's so pint sized compared to my 5'10", large frame. Her head rests in my bosom, almost like we have reversed roles and now I'm the Mother.
"I did what I had to do to survive." I say as I begin to cry. "I don't know what else to do." I say to her softly.
My daughters play loudly while this is going on. Their laughter echos through the house. I'm glad someone has remembered the way to laugh.
My Mom and I drop the subject as quickly as it began. She begins to wash dishes and I run to the hallway to grab the vacuum.
We went about our day, taking down the inside Christmas decorations, and getting the house clean as Alexandra and I leave for Boston in less than a week. We never spoke of that moment again, and probably never will.
"Mom just feels horrible because your always so down, and depressed and you never get out of it. She watched those home videos with me and your always happy and smiling. She just wants you to be happy. No matter what happens all of us will be together in the end." ~ My sister responds to me as I ask her what happened when they watched the home videos together. "But I smile, and I do stuff. I do." I reply. "But you go from happy to really sad instantly, and it happens often and I think it scares Mom." "I can see that. I don't know what else to do."
I looked at my Mom's face hard today. Really looked. My Mom has always had this round happy face, even in her early 60's she has hardly had any wrinkles. But ever since she became Alexandra's part time caregiver, I have seen an aging. Not because Alexandra is difficult, but because she sees the pain inside this household. She sees what I have been putting up with for years now. And it hurts her. Now I know why she always would ask me in the past "Honey, you have such horrible dark circles under your eyes ~ are you okay?".
I don't know what else to do. I just don't know. I hate that its hurting my Mom. That even my Dad is crying at night because he sees what I have to put up with.
I have to take pills to get through the day. Pills to sleep at night. Because the person I need to hold me up and take care of me, can't. He can't see past his own pain. And it's not pain from the happenings of our daughter, its decades of abuse as a child, its his feeling of indifference, and narcissism that keep him from seeing the real reasons things are happening. It's pridefulness.
I don't know what else to do. I pray. It's all I have left.