Ok so I'll start with this story. As our mums are where we all start. I've tossed and turned about whether to post this story. Partly because I don't want to be... depressing, as I like being joyful! But given I've made a commitment to "post" .. Here it is! And if you hang in there with me I promise all my stories have an uplifting ending.. Mainly because I get to freakin write them! And that's how my heart and life works. I will always write my own story and I will write uplifting, meaningful endings.. always x
Mothering without my mum -
When I was 15 my mum was diagnosed with Huntingtons disease, a genetic neurological condition.. and in that same week I found out I was pregnant (joyful week at the Turnbull household in Dondingalong! ). I both became a mum and lost my mum that week in 1994. As much as my mum was still my "mum" our roles switched and I gradually over the years became her carer.
Becoming a carer as a teenager comes with a range of feelings from deep fear and sadness, to anger. I didn't really want to be her carer.. which then leads to guilt (yes more hideous fucking guilt) But seriously what kind of awful human doesn't want to care for a sick parent! But at 15 I didn't really want to.. I wanted to run far far away.. But I did it because I loved her. I stayed close and cared for my mum for the next 20 years as she deteriorated, whilst I birthed and raised my 4 children.
From the day of her diagnosis I have always felt like that bird in the book "Are you my mother?" where the bird falls out of the tree and goes on his venture to find his mum. He asks the dog, the cat, the tractor.. Are you my mother? You know the one! I have even made jokes over the years, in my feelings of desperation when my kids were little, that I might put an add in the paper to hire a mum!
I have always longed for that person my mum was "supposed" to be. I lost having someone at my kids births who could be fully there. I can remember not really wanting my mum to visit me in hospital, as I would be caring for a new born baby and then be overwhelmed with my mums loses, changes, chorea movements, the huge responsibility and her obvious difference, which as a young adult felt very hard. And then I would feel more guilt for being such an awful human for feeling that way! It was hugely conflicting.
All I wanted though was to have a "well" mum. A mum to teach me how to be a mum, to take care of me and share my kids with me, to tell me stories about when I was little and what she would have done in the same situation. The loss of that role, stories and memories is like a huge part of my life and my experience of motherhood vanished. It's kind of like being out this vast forest, without your mother elder guide!
My mum moved into a nursing home when she was 46 years old where she lived with people twice her age. For years I visited her every week, whilst I juggled and managed 4 little kids. I grieved so deeply for the mum I desperately needed. I would spoon feed her pureed food (which let me tell you in nursing homes is pretty awful!) and I would imagine the mum that would have come to my house to hang out.. and help me spoon feed my kids!
Ive tried over the years to fill this space in my life with other female role models, older woman, professionals, aunts, and other people's mums, which works a little.. But it often leaves me wondering more deeply what our relationship could have been. A photo, a story, a glimmer is always a little gem I stash away to help build my story of her, which helps me build my story of who I am as a woman.
There are also some very basic practical skills I unfortunately lost due to her becoming unwell in my teens. And these may seem very gendered and insignificant .. but when I have 4 kids, they are critical to our survival! I never learnt how to cook from someone. I've generally avoided it, as I have memories of my mum cooking, which seem so far out of my reach. I've never learnt how to wash clothes very well. I recently discovered more expensive washing powder helps
but if you ask my kids they tend to do it themselves, as it's safer and their clothes last longer! I've never been taken care of in a way that I imagine a mum takes care of a daughter when she is sick...making food, drinking tea, visiting and helping. Which can create a strong sense of independence and survival in me that I have to do life alone.
I often have a longing for that kind of motherly connection but then I also have a fierce protection around who is allowed into that sacred space of mothering me. I don't generally want anyone stepping into that role with me. Which can make receiving support hard, and it's something I'm still learning to do.
One of the hardest things to accept though has been my kids not having my mum as their grandmother. I see what other grandmothers do with their daughters and kids, and it looks like a pretty big deal! I wonder what that would have looked like for us? How our life have been different if she was here. What adventures or fights we all may have had. However my kids often tell me my mum taught them more than many grandmothers may. She taught them how to love someone who is sick, how to care for someone with a disability, how to get so much joy from ice-cream and she taught them about life and death...
What more could I ask for really... Other than someone to come wash some clothes, feed us and maybe take us to the zoo!
So I'll leave you with this.. I always love this quote.. As it's so true in so many areas of my life..
"What screws us up on life is the picture in our head of how it is supposed to be"
If I let go of the idea of what was meant to be and just allow what is .. This story is not depressing... It's incredibly sad, yes.. But it is filled with loads of life lessons and love which I would never have recieved from my mum in any other way. So in a way she will always still be mothering and teaching me
(PS However sometimes peeps, I honestly think her lessons are a bit hard core.. So if anyone would like to have a word to her. Please feel free!)
When I was 15 my mum was diagnosed with Huntingtons disease, a genetic neurological condition.. and in that same week I found out I was pregnant (joyful week at the Turnbull household in Dondingalong! ). I both became a mum and lost my mum that week in 1994. As much as my mum was still my "mum" our roles switched and I gradually over the years became her carer.
Becoming a carer as a teenager comes with a range of feelings from deep fear and sadness, to anger. I didn't really want to be her carer.. which then leads to guilt (yes more hideous fucking guilt) But seriously what kind of awful human doesn't want to care for a sick parent! But at 15 I didn't really want to.. I wanted to run far far away.. But I did it because I loved her. I stayed close and cared for my mum for the next 20 years as she deteriorated, whilst I birthed and raised my 4 children.
From the day of her diagnosis I have always felt like that bird in the book "Are you my mother?" where the bird falls out of the tree and goes on his venture to find his mum. He asks the dog, the cat, the tractor.. Are you my mother? You know the one! I have even made jokes over the years, in my feelings of desperation when my kids were little, that I might put an add in the paper to hire a mum!
I have always longed for that person my mum was "supposed" to be. I lost having someone at my kids births who could be fully there. I can remember not really wanting my mum to visit me in hospital, as I would be caring for a new born baby and then be overwhelmed with my mums loses, changes, chorea movements, the huge responsibility and her obvious difference, which as a young adult felt very hard. And then I would feel more guilt for being such an awful human for feeling that way! It was hugely conflicting.
All I wanted though was to have a "well" mum. A mum to teach me how to be a mum, to take care of me and share my kids with me, to tell me stories about when I was little and what she would have done in the same situation. The loss of that role, stories and memories is like a huge part of my life and my experience of motherhood vanished. It's kind of like being out this vast forest, without your mother elder guide!
My mum moved into a nursing home when she was 46 years old where she lived with people twice her age. For years I visited her every week, whilst I juggled and managed 4 little kids. I grieved so deeply for the mum I desperately needed. I would spoon feed her pureed food (which let me tell you in nursing homes is pretty awful!) and I would imagine the mum that would have come to my house to hang out.. and help me spoon feed my kids!
Ive tried over the years to fill this space in my life with other female role models, older woman, professionals, aunts, and other people's mums, which works a little.. But it often leaves me wondering more deeply what our relationship could have been. A photo, a story, a glimmer is always a little gem I stash away to help build my story of her, which helps me build my story of who I am as a woman.
There are also some very basic practical skills I unfortunately lost due to her becoming unwell in my teens. And these may seem very gendered and insignificant .. but when I have 4 kids, they are critical to our survival! I never learnt how to cook from someone. I've generally avoided it, as I have memories of my mum cooking, which seem so far out of my reach. I've never learnt how to wash clothes very well. I recently discovered more expensive washing powder helps
but if you ask my kids they tend to do it themselves, as it's safer and their clothes last longer! I've never been taken care of in a way that I imagine a mum takes care of a daughter when she is sick...making food, drinking tea, visiting and helping. Which can create a strong sense of independence and survival in me that I have to do life alone.I often have a longing for that kind of motherly connection but then I also have a fierce protection around who is allowed into that sacred space of mothering me. I don't generally want anyone stepping into that role with me. Which can make receiving support hard, and it's something I'm still learning to do.
One of the hardest things to accept though has been my kids not having my mum as their grandmother. I see what other grandmothers do with their daughters and kids, and it looks like a pretty big deal! I wonder what that would have looked like for us? How our life have been different if she was here. What adventures or fights we all may have had. However my kids often tell me my mum taught them more than many grandmothers may. She taught them how to love someone who is sick, how to care for someone with a disability, how to get so much joy from ice-cream and she taught them about life and death...
What more could I ask for really... Other than someone to come wash some clothes, feed us and maybe take us to the zoo!
So I'll leave you with this.. I always love this quote.. As it's so true in so many areas of my life..
"What screws us up on life is the picture in our head of how it is supposed to be"
If I let go of the idea of what was meant to be and just allow what is .. This story is not depressing... It's incredibly sad, yes.. But it is filled with loads of life lessons and love which I would never have recieved from my mum in any other way. So in a way she will always still be mothering and teaching me
(PS However sometimes peeps, I honestly think her lessons are a bit hard core.. So if anyone would like to have a word to her. Please feel free!)
Pure writing. Awesome xx
ReplyDeleteThank you Fi xoxox
Delete💕
ReplyDelete