march 1, 1984. i was 7 years old. i remember coming home from school and seeing everyone in our living room. i knew something had to be up because why else would everyone be home from work already? my now former sis-in-law was the one who told me that my mother was dead. my family, being the religious bunch that we tend to be, had previously had the "heaven is where people go when they die" talk with me, but they were astute enough not to say anything about how soon my mother would be one of those people.
i knew she was sick, though. there were times when she'd be in the hospital and i couldn't go see her b/c i was way too young. i drew her cards, though. james helped me with some of them. when she was home and couldn't really get out of bed, i'd make sure the radio was on so she wouldn't be lonely. i "cooked" for her. my imaginary rabbit stew was legendary. i don't know why i fixated on rabbit stew - probably b/c daddy liked mocking my attachment to stuffed animals and cartoons - but i had a pretend stove and sink and bowls and pots and y'all could not tell me that i wasn't creating a culinary masterpiece.
i was 7 when i found out my mother was dead and i remember screaming and crying and my oldest brother picking me up and carrying me to bed b/c i screamed and cried myself to sleep. i remember the part of the funeral where my mother's pastor asked if any visitors were present & i tried to get daddy to stand up b/c we weren't members of mama's church. my brothers were, but daddy was a staunch a.m.e. until he died and wanted nothing to do with those crazy baptists. the fact that he was willing to tolerate occasional services after my brothers & i all switched our church memberships to 1st c. was a testament to bishop tears, really. daddy loved hearing bishop preach.
but this isn't about daddy, even though i really am a daddy's girl at heart. this is about my mother, who died 30 years ago. the woman who i did not get to spend nearly enough time with before she died.
i think i was in high school when i learned that mama had cancer. all those years i'd believed, or had been told to believe, that mama died of a heart attack. maybe she suffered cardiac arrest in the hospital, like daddy would do some 13 years later. i don't know. but it was cancer. breast cancer.
my mother was a teacher. details are sketchy, but i'm pretty sure she'd given it up right before i came along. that would explain how i started reading when i was 2, though. my mother loved playing the lottery and gambling. family legend has it that my first (and so far only) trip to vegas was when mama was still pregnant with me. i don't know what kind of luck she had. i do remember crown royal bags filled with quarters. those were always around the house.
i don't know what mama's favorite color was, or her favorite food, or what she wanted to be when she grew up. i don't know how many times her heart was broken. i don't know what she felt when, as a woman with two sons by two different fathers, this guy that she'd eventually marry and have two more children with first came along. i don't know how they met, or when they fell in love, or when they decided to get married, or if they were even still in love when she got sick. i don't know what kind of advice she would've given me about life or love or how to be a woman. there's a lot i don't know. there's a lot i'll never know.
i do know i'm essentially a slightly darker version of my mother. y'know how folks say someone looks like so-and-so just spit them out? i get that all the time w/r/t my mother. i didn't get her height, which would've been nice to balance out these super-long feet i got from her. i did get some of her jewelry, though. that ring i wear around my neck? it belonged to my mother. i started wearing it in high school, i think - the ring was too big for my finger and so i just put it on a chain i had and the rest is history.
i prefer to think that i got my love of reading and learning from her, too. can enjoyment of soap operas be considered a hereditary trait? b/c i'm willing to claim that, too. i was all about all my children and one life to live and my scandal addiction has already been documented for the record. mama loved her some guiding light, to the point where 2:00pm was my nap time and even if i wasn't tired, i had to go in my room and be quiet for that hour. yes, it was that serious.
i don't know if my mother loved music, but i have to assume she did. part of me likes to believe that she and daddy bonded over their mutual love of music. the radio was on a lot in our house. i had a toy piano in my room and took lessons for what seemed like forever but was probably only a year or so. i'm listening to music as i type this and it just seems right.
it doesn't seem right that my mother has been dead for 30 years. that i have carried this grief and longing and yes, sometimes anger with me for 30 years. i may not have been able to give voice to it 30 years ago, but i can damn sure vocalize it now - the shit's not fair and cancer fucking sucks and while i can't pretend to imagine how differently my life would've turned out if my mother had lived long enough to help me through my first heartbreak or been there to applaud when i graduated, i'd be a lying sack of shit if i said i didn't indulge in daydreaming about it every now and again. yes, i know, life is difficult and we all lose people we love and there's not much we can do about it, but this is my mother i'm talking about here and the fact that i have to grasp at memories of her instead of having a whole mental database of reminisces to draw on both is depressingly maddening.
today is march 1, 2014, and my mother has been dead for 30 years. i don't know what her dreams for me were, nor do i know if i've even come close to them, but i'm here and she's not and i am sad and angry that this is a reality that i have had to resign myself to. this is a part of who i am whether i like it or not and every now and again, i have to face up to it instead of letting it simmer just under the surface while i attempt to get through my everyday life. today seems like as good a time as any to let it out.
(and if you think this was maudlin, stay tuned for my "omg i can't believe james has been dead for 5 years" post coming in the next week or so!)