mother's day

... and yet more grieving. I have a mother, but she didn't raise me. My oldest sister by 10 years raised me, so when she went off to college, I lost my mother. The other woman who gave birth to me has always been a little demented and disconnected, so I lost her a long time ago, probably years before I was born. No matter that I lived with her and she fed me and all that; she was not a mother to me.

I have raised or am raising a total of six kids. I didn't raise two kids. Out of the eight, I have no relationship with my kids; the first three because their dad would threaten my life if I had contact with them, and the second three because they are undecided about their love/hate for me. We're in the hate or near-hate phase right now, being the teen years.

These are not easy times for me. I wish that I had an extended family and people who understood without needing explanation. Instead, I am surrounded by a family of christians.

All of my siblings seem to indicate that my grief and sorrows are a result of not living a christian life. Nevermind that it was life-threatening when I lived for Christ (I could have been a fantastic martyr but I fucked up that opportunity to demonstrate WWJD.)

I wish that I could grieve all of this with honesty in the relationships themselves. But instead, I'm trying to figure it out with the help of David and my sorrow-sodden brain. There is no repair I can make with the kids. They'll have to decide whether to have relationship with me or not. There is no repair to be made with my parents, especially my mother, because the lights are on, but no one's home. Never has been.

So, mother's day for me smacks of homelessness, isolation, not belonging.

I am so thankful for David's love for me. Otherwise I would despair.