Finding Peace (Continued)

What became more damaging was my Dad saying, "your son" – well that explains a lot, Mr. Kilmon, and my Mom saying, "Paul."  She knew, always knew but she just couldn’t come to terms with my sexuality.  But I forgive you, Mom.  I forgave my Mom a long time ago, but I didn’t need to tell her or see her again because when I am done, I am done!

Weeks before my mother’s death, a few of my siblings called to let me know she was in hospice.  My sister called me the day she died.  I am not sure why.  Am I supposed to feel guilt or shame?  I don’t know.

I can tell you what I do know.  My mother always said, "If you can’t send me flowers while I am alive, don’t send them when I am dead.  If you can’t come see me when I am alive, don’t come see me when I am dead."  She meant that!  I had no problem honoring her wishes, for they are my wishes, too.

I am my mother’s child.  I was her favorite, at one point.  We shared an undeniable bond growing up.  I have my mother’s hands.  I had my mother’s mind.  I had her logic.  I had her reasoning. I had her manipulation.  I had her denial.  I had her fear.

Have and had are very important to me for they tell me where I am on my journey.  At 55 I am still healing, and if I make it to 100 (you never know), I will still be healing.  That’s just me.  When it comes to family, I am in a positive perpetual healing state.  That will never change.

For those family members who think I am horrible or that I’ll reap what I sow… Thank you for your heartfelt Christian words.  They remind me of how far I’ve come on my journey and of the journey to self you have never attempted.

My mother chose God over family.  My father’s torments (he died a few years ago) she left in God’s hands. When the chips were down, God’s hands.  When her children were sick, more often than not, God’s hands.  There are so many things my Mom could have done, but she chose to leave things in God’s hands.  If you’re afraid, living in fear and don’t know any better, I guess God’s hands sound pretty comforting (sadly, the outcomes were less than favorable).

Religion doesn’t work for me, but if you think it works for you, I am cool with that.  Regardless of the God you worship, I think he or she would want you to think for yourself.  Pray to God, but also get busy making things happen.

My mother is a cautionary tale.  She thought her only option in life was to get married and have children. I know she wanted more from life and would often talk to me about it when I was a teenager.  At times, my Mom could be surprisingly realistic.  Limited choices and having five children created few opportunities. (With my family, history often repeats itself.)

I believed in my Mom.  Sadly, she didn’t believe in herself.  That’s painful to write.  What hurts even more is my mother’s doubts and fear did not come from her parents, because she was loved by them, but from her husband.

I hope there is a God and for all my mother thought he would be, I hope she is receiving his love, attention and care.  I am happy she is no longer suffering.  That brings me joy.

To my siblings and other family members, your mourning has just begun.  I’ve been mourning our mother since 1988, and before.  My condolences.

I remember when I used to talk to my mother three times a day.  Our conversations always ended with her saying, "I love you."  I would say, "I love you more."  She would say, "I will always love you more, Paul, because that’s my job."  This is how I will remember my Mom.

I often hear people say, when their parents died, they felt like an orphan.  Even when my parents were alive, I felt like an orphan.  Only until I ventured out into the world did I find the family I was looking for, people who never judged or try to change me, but just allowed me to be me – still animated and expressive at times, but well-adjusted enough.

For those who’ve loved me unconditionally, thank you.  You’ll never know just how much that has meant to this sometimes broken and weary traveler. – paerki

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