| Biographical Non-Fiction posted March 2, 2015 |
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Letter after mom died (self-explained)
Letter to Mom - November20, 1987
by patcelaw
Letter to Mom - November20, 1987
My mother died on December 16, 1986. For years she and I had a very strained relationship and I wanted so much to know who she really was and know a little about her own life as she was growing up. Each time I would attempt to get her to talk about her life, she would bolt from me.
I was at a loss for why she treated me as she did. I wanted understanding which never came. When she passed I was very sad my mother had died, yet on the other hand, I was elated that never again would she hurt me. For almost one year I felt guilty about having those feelings. Finally I wrote her a letter. I took the letter to her grave and there I read the letter.
The letter is rather long, 5 pages doubled spaced text. So I will only give you some of the things I said in the letter.
Dear Mom,
I am writing you this letter to express some of the feelings I have inside me because of the things that did and did not happen in my relationship with you.
I'm sad mom that you were never willing or able to affirm me as a worthy daughter. Oh, yes you told others I was a good mother, but that was not something you showed to me. It seemed when you talked directly to me it was to say I should have done this or that or I shouldn't have done this or that.
As a child it seemed as though I could never do anything right in your eyes no matter how hard I tried. That hurt mom, as you never seemed to see the things my siblings did that were wrong.
When you put my hair up in rag curls, you would pull my hair if I moved. I was only a child then mom, and children don't always sit perfectly still.
When Patrick and I set the barn on fire and it burned to the ground, I did what was right. I came to the house and told you the barn was on fire. When Patrick was safely home you turned and hugged and kissed him, but you turned to me and scolded me for not telling you Patrick had the matches. Mom, it was at this point I lost my ability to communicate with you.
Mom, it hurt when you told me you could not teach me to do things because I was left-handed. This always made me feel dumb. I knew I was not dumb. I had good grades in school until I went to high school.
What was more painful mom, was when you would scold me for sprained ankles and awful earaches. What I needed from you at those times was comfort, but you seemed unable to give it to me.
When I was old enough to do many of the chores around the house, you never praised me for the jobs I had done, but rather found the things which I hadn't done perfectly or as well as you might have done them. Mom, that hurt.
I did not mind doing the work, as a matter of fact they made me stronger and I learned many skills that would be of value later in life. But you know what it sure would have been nice to hear, "Patricia, you did that very well, I am proud of you," and you could have hugged me. It did not happen.
I was not always the best daughter considering some of the things I was doing. For that I am sorry. You see I had to learn to do things myself as you couldn't or wouldn't teach me. I don't know why.
Why I always had to reach up to the other kids in your eyes and not be the person I was, is still a puzzle to me. I wanted to be myself, and be loved for who I was and not a carbon copy of a sister or brother. I am an individual who has her own talents and abilities which God had given me.
Then mom there were times when I would try to get you to talk about your relationship with your parents. Since your parents died before I was old enough to remember them, it would have been nice to know a little about who they were and what they would have felt about me.
Your Daughter,
Patricia
These are just a few of the things in the letter to my mom. As I read this letter to mom, I was not angry at her, rather I felt pity for her, as she missed out on so many of the blessings her children could have provided her, had she accepted each child as they were and not tried to make them into someone other than what they were to become.
Letter to Mom - November20, 1987
My mother died on December 16, 1986. For years she and I had a very strained relationship and I wanted so much to know who she really was and know a little about her own life as she was growing up. Each time I would attempt to get her to talk about her life, she would bolt from me.
I was at a loss for why she treated me as she did. I wanted understanding which never came. When she passed I was very sad my mother had died, yet on the other hand, I was elated that never again would she hurt me. For almost one year I felt guilty about having those feelings. Finally I wrote her a letter. I took the letter to her grave and there I read the letter.
The letter is rather long, 5 pages doubled spaced text. So I will only give you some of the things I said in the letter.
Dear Mom,
I am writing you this letter to express some of the feelings I have inside me because of the things that did and did not happen in my relationship with you.
I'm sad mom that you were never willing or able to affirm me as a worthy daughter. Oh, yes you told others I was a good mother, but that was not something you showed to me. It seemed when you talked directly to me it was to say I should have done this or that or I shouldn't have done this or that.
As a child it seemed as though I could never do anything right in your eyes no matter how hard I tried. That hurt mom, as you never seemed to see the things my siblings did that were wrong.
When you put my hair up in rag curls, you would pull my hair if I moved. I was only a child then mom, and children don't always sit perfectly still.
When Patrick and I set the barn on fire and it burned to the ground, I did what was right. I came to the house and told you the barn was on fire. When Patrick was safely home you turned and hugged and kissed him, but you turned to me and scolded me for not telling you Patrick had the matches. Mom, it was at this point I lost my ability to communicate with you.
Mom, it hurt when you told me you could not teach me to do things because I was left-handed. This always made me feel dumb. I knew I was not dumb. I had good grades in school until I went to high school.
What was more painful mom, was when you would scold me for sprained ankles and awful earaches. What I needed from you at those times was comfort, but you seemed unable to give it to me.
When I was old enough to do many of the chores around the house, you never praised me for the jobs I had done, but rather found the things which I hadn't done perfectly or as well as you might have done them. Mom, that hurt.
I did not mind doing the work, as a matter of fact they made me stronger and I learned many skills that would be of value later in life. But you know what it sure would have been nice to hear, "Patricia, you did that very well, I am proud of you," and you could have hugged me. It did not happen.
I was not always the best daughter considering some of the things I was doing. For that I am sorry. You see I had to learn to do things myself as you couldn't or wouldn't teach me. I don't know why.
Why I always had to reach up to the other kids in your eyes and not be the person I was, is still a puzzle to me. I wanted to be myself, and be loved for who I was and not a carbon copy of a sister or brother. I am an individual who has her own talents and abilities which God had given me.
Then mom there were times when I would try to get you to talk about your relationship with your parents. Since your parents died before I was old enough to remember them, it would have been nice to know a little about who they were and what they would have felt about me.
Your Daughter,
Patricia
These are just a few of the things in the letter to my mom. As I read this letter to mom, I was not angry at her, rather I felt pity for her, as she missed out on so many of the blessings her children could have provided her, had she accepted each child as they were and not tried to make them into someone other than what they were to become.
 Recognized |
Photo is of my mother and me at my wedding on January 25,1959.
It is one of the few pictures I have of my mother smiling.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. It is one of the few pictures I have of my mother smiling.
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