Defining Moments

My relationship with my mother was defined by one conversation we had when I was 12.  I'd been in foster homes from the age of 4 when she left the first time, until I was 9 when she had remarried and moved to CA and wanted to try and be a mother again.  I was the one that moved from the foster home I'd lived in for 3 years in Philadelphia to live with her in southern CA.  She and my stepdad had a good home and things were pretty good. 

I was the "good" child and didn't cause any issues so it was easy for her then, but when she brought my younger sister and brother out to CA to live with us, they had emotional issues that were severe enough to need special attention and she couldn't give it.  She took off again when I was 12.  No one knew where she was, what had happened to her, the car was gone and she wasn't there.  Things were really strained for my stepdad who was a decent good man and tried to be a good father, he made a great living as a conceptual engineer for Hughes but money had disappeared fromt the accounts and he was struggling to find out why.  He was a good man and tried to deal with everything. 

We didn't know what had happened to her for weeks, no contact from her at all and all we could think was she had been killed or something.  And then, out of the blue, she came back.  No reasons or explanations.  My stepdad tried to talk to her, but she gave him excuses for where the money and car had gone.  

I remember sitting at her feet and holding her hand.  I told her I loved her and wanted her to stay, needed her.... she pulled away and looked at me as cold as could be and accused me of trying to manipulate her emotionally and give her a guilt trip. 

I"m sure you've all heard the term heartstrings... it does feel like that.  The strings of your heart are pulled tighter and tighter... and if enough pressure is put on them, then they snap!

After the other things that had happened with her and because of her in my childhood, the strings of my heart and what I felt for her just snapped.  If I sit still and reflect back on that moment, I can still feel the echo of that break.

I suppose it didn't "define" me per se, but it certainly has had alot to do with the sort of parent I don't want to be.  She taught me by reflection and negative spaces.  I wanted to be a better mother than she was.  I have done what I can and my children love me and think I'm a pretty good mom, but I know I could have done things differently... maybe better.  But maybe I'm judging myself too harshly and considering what I had to work with, the examples I did have, I didn't do badly at all.