Carol H Tucker Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
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beladona Memorial Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
Today is my mother’s birthday and she would’ve been 88.
I didn’t have a good relationship with my mother. We fought constantly while I was growing up. My mother was petite, pretty, and popular in school and she did not like her only child, who was a lumbering, big, nerd. My mother set great store in “fitting in” and I was most definitely a person who defiantly walked to a different drummer. She was frustrated beyond words when I “wouldn’t listen” which meant I wasn’t doing what she wanted when she wanted it done, and of course, I knew exactly how to hit all her buttons and perversely did it with great regularity. And when I was 21, I left in one crisp autumn night, and we didn’t speak again for over 16 years. She didn’t come to my weddings. She didn’t come to my children’ baptisms. She didn’t visit my son in the hospital when at 3 years old he had open heart surgery. We reconciled in 1987, thanks to Frank’s intervention so she got to meet Tom and Gem at least. But when we tried to move in together, the dementia was much further along than I realized and we only lasted six months before I had to put her in assisted living -- and then we were estranged again.
Did my mother love me? I honestly don’t know. My mother and her entire family believed that love had to be earned, and I never did earn it. Did I love my mother? Dutifully yes, but the emotional attachment burnt off in those years of estrangement and I don’t miss her. She did teach me a great deal about the kind of person and mother I didn’t want to be, so I worked very hard to raise my kids very differently, to teach them that my love was not conditional. I learned how choices impact your future and accepting personal accountability for the paths that you choose. I learned while it was okay to have arguments with loved ones, there are certain things that you should never say because once they are said you cannot take it back. I learned life is intrinsically unfair; accepting that and getting on with living was a lesson that took a little longer.
My mother was a hard woman; she didn’t cut anyone any slack, not even herself. Her life was not an easy one, but like the rest of us, she did the best that she could. In the end, two years ago, she exercised the last choice left in her realm of control – she stopped eating and she died. This picture was taken five years ago on her birthday, right before she started to go downhill and had to go into a nursing home.
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