Secrets Revealed

Mother,

I want to first apologize for my lack of communication. Your death broke me but your secrets lifted me up. The last 2 years of your life, we got closer than we had ever been. Every day, I awaited the ringing of the phone around 10 AM every morning. I cherished those talks. We talked about our own experiences, as girls, women, children, wives and mothers. I finally saw you as more than a mother. You became my best friend. I loved that time.

As an adult, I spent my whole life suppressing anything that was reminiscent of you. I wanted to be a better person, not just a better mother and wife. As we talked in your last 2 years, I began to see me in you. We were the same little girls who lost their Daddys. Your father died when you were 9; when I was just about the same age, you divorced my Daddy. It was the same sort of shift for me. I know you would disagree. But I believe you can see the similarities in the paths our lives took from this point.

Although I decidedly lack the ability to contemplate my grandma being a "drunk whore". She was under 5' and weighed less than 90 lbs. White hair, contemporarily yet conservatively dressed Southern woman. I know you said she would fight a man when she got "gin-drunk". But you have to forgive me for not seeing that in the tiny woman I knew.

Let's talk about the secret you kept. I sit here today and tell you for the first time, I forgive you. I know you thought you made the right choice. In my mind, now, you absolutely did. I never got to tell you how hurt I was that in all the things we talked about you never mentioned your life and Joe. You sought him out twice. There had to be something about him. I get it he was James Dean.....in many ways. Didn't you think that my brother, John, should know we are actual brother and sister, not half-brother and half sister? When you and Daddy were both gone, wouldn't it be better if we had each other?

I guess I still feel the anger in being the only one in the family who did not know my Daddy was not my biological father. Hell, even your nephew, David knew. Ironically, that is what probably stings the most. I always felt like an outsider. I was placed on a shelf high above the three-ring circus of my family. Yet I never knew there was a world below me. I was outside every family after the divorce. You and my brother were a family. Grandma, Uncle Mike were a family. Daddy had a family outside of me. I was not privy to any of them, by design. It was in my best interest to not be a part of these different families. Do you know how detrimental that is to a pre-pubescent girl?

The sperm donor did not want me. And you did know what sociopath he was right? He was a brutal, sado-masochist. That is one thing everyone who knew him agrees on. I recently met his granddaughter, my half-sister Janie's daughter. She illuminated his place in their family dynamic. She is yet another person who believes you made the right decision. It is confirmation bias but it is relevant, nevertheless.

My Daddy was my hero. You know that. He is the reason I am who I am. Understanding his kindness, even with him knowing I was not his child, is a trait he imparted. I am not saying that as an attack. He was my hero. Now, knowing the secret, now that you both are gone, well, he rose to iconic level in my mind. You knew he would protect me, take care of me and make sure I was taken care of. You knew this because he rescued from your mother the same way he rescued me from you.

This is not sounding like much of an apology, is it? Damn it, Mother! I am trying. Logic and emotion are at odds. As an absolutely fucking flawed woman, I will be alright with it eventually. I love you and I miss you even if you drive me crazy.

Rest in Peace.