Done with the drama

I almost forgot to post about my unwelcome surprise. I haven't gone to bed yet, so it's still "tomorrow" for me, even if the clock doesn't say so.

The "unwelcome surprise" on my birthday wasn't really that much of a surprise. I didn't know it was coming, but when it was there, it wasn't completely unexpected.

I was at the bar with all the girls, and I was checking my email on my phone to see if I'd heard from K. My phone began downloading a new message, which I was sure was from him.

Wrong! It was from my mom. This was the first time I'd heard from her since the attempt at dress shopping in July. Go figure. I immediately said to the girls, "My mom just sent me an effing email."

I kid you not, every one of them almost simultaneously said, "Don't read it now. Don't let her ruin your birthday." Pretty sad, huh?

I won't bore or disgust you with the full contents of the email, but here are some of the highlights (and by that, I mean low points).


The dramatic beginning

Tomorrow you turn 25 and yet I still remember every detail of your face the first time I saw you as a nurse held you out for me to see. I hope you have a wonderful day.

I’ve struggled these past weeks trying to turn over in my mind what to say to you after our most recent disaster of my trying to come see you. And sadly, I am still at a total loss for words although I have thought about it for countless hours.

Getting to the middle

In a sermon the other day the following question was posed: If you are estranged from someone, for whatever reason, and you get that phone call that says, “I’m calling to tell you that he/she has died”, can you honestly say that you have done everything possible to mend the fence?

I fully acknowledge that there were too many times that I failed as a wife and a mother. I fully acknowledge that I caused severe emotional and physical pain to the people I loved the most in the world. And I sincerely apologize.

You asked me that day I tried to visit you why I have to cry all the time. I am totally mystified as to why after five or six years of this, you don’t cry at all. To answer your question however, the reason I cry is that I miss my children. I miss the smell and feel of your hair as I kiss you hello and goodbye and all the other little, trivial things that happen between a mother and daughter. Most of all, I miss feeling at ease around you.

(For the record, my family does not kiss hello or goodbye. We never have. Just more proof that she lives in her own, false little world.)

[Next, she goes off on some weird, random, pointless story about her mother, who -- guess what? -- she doesn't get along with. At least it runs in the family.]

The even-more-dramatic-than-the-beginning exit

The point that I am trying to make is that I want to be your mother and to try to make up for the times I let you down but until you are ready…ready to forgive and ready to start over, then there is nothing that I can do. I will not be spoken to ever again the way you spoke to me that day and all the other days just like it.

Although I want more than anything in this world to be a part of your life and for you to be part of my mine, I will not sacrifice myself anymore or accept any less than to be treated with respect.

It breaks my heart that all this time has gone by without you in my life but until you want me in your life, I will not expect anything of you. It hurts too much.

I have done everything I know to do.

I will not be responding to this email, since nothing I have to say to her would be kind or respectful. Honestly, I'm done trying for now (guess she's missing the Dallas wedding too). It may sound harsh, but in the end, I think it's best for both of us. I really think it's just what I have to do.