I saw my mother once in 2014.
It was April. I’d been ill. A mysterious infection landed me in the hospital for 5 days. It was the strangest thing, something burst in my neck, a bad parathyroid gland. It caused a dark bruising in the front of my neck, as if I’d been strangled. The doctors kept asking me if I’d been injured, but i hadn’t. It just happened. It didn’t hurt, but I still asked for morphine, because, why the hell not!
I texted my mother, but she didn’t come to see me. She sent me a card with $20. I don’t want money from her. She’s poor and I’m not. The last thing i need is her $20, but I took it and said thank you. What I really wanted, was her.
I was out of work for 4 months, and i went to meet her in the city. It was nice, we walked the High Line, and had lunch. She got a sudden phone call and had to run. I think the phone call was pre-arranged, to give her a way out. She’s very nervous when I’m around. We texted a few times after that, but that was it. Last time was May 2014. It’s January 2015 now.
She says the only way we can have contact is if i go see her, in person. I’ve done that, and it was OK, but I don’t think we should have rules of contact like that. It’s not a real relationship that way. I’m not going to force myself on my mother.
I find it sad that after 48 years of no contact at all, she’s content with this. I wanted to be a part of her life so badly. It’s an ache that never goes away. I have to live with it, because there is no other option. I don’t have the luxury of suicide. I would love to sleep forever, but i can’t do that to my children. I can’t let them live with a mother who killed herself. They would take it personally, and feel that they failed me. That cannot happen. I have to give them the best life I can. And I will, I always have.
My parents never wished me a happy 50th, 51st or 52nd birthday. The only birthday they ever acknowledged was my 49th. The first one we were in reunion for. Dad sent me a check for $100 and Mom gave me a bizarre piece of artwork that scared the crap out of me.
Christmas 2013, Mom sent me a box she made, decorated with my brothers artwork, and a picture of a damsel in distress. Her, I guess. She sees herself that way.
Auntie told me that my father wished my mother a happy birthday in 2014, the first time in many years. He did not do the same for me. I’m persona non grata,
That brings us to 2015. No plans to see my parents. I’m in contact with Auntie, CC (Chinese cousin) and his 2 little kids, Auntie’s son, BC (black cousin) and his daughter.