“I don’t know if I am being too hard on her but even though I know she may not be around much longer like I just wish she would just say I am sorry. Is that too much? Am I being a bad daughter?” she asked.
Her questions lingered for a while as the silence grew between us with only her soft breathing telling me that she was still on the other side of the telephone line.
I have known this sister for a long time, but never met her mother and even though she migrated some years ago, we would still talk from time to time. That evening when she called, I was hesitant to take it because I wanted an early night. But I am happy I did because she wanted to vent and sometimes it is good to provide that outlet, which we all need at some point or the other.
“My mother and I have had a difficult relationship for as long as I can remember. She said.
I interrupted her, telling her that many women may have the same issue as I knew that some such relationships can be difficult and depending on who you speak to the other person is always wrong.
“You don’t understand,” she cut in, “it is not like ordinary relationships. I can’t tell you everything but believe me when I say it is was not a good relationship. As a matter of fact, it was a terrible relationship.
“For years, I wanted closure. I wanted healing. It was as if I am always walking around with this burden and you could never have a conversation with her. It is always I am the child and she doesn’t have to explain anything to me. And you know how stupid that is, right?
“I know people would say move on, after all I have my own family now and initially it was like that. I used to just tell myself that I don’t want to make the same mistakes like my mother. I don’t want when my children to grow up to feel like me. But then as I get older, I just get the burden like and I pray to have a real conversation with my mother.
“Every time I try, she would like change the subject or we would almost end up in an argument because she always has her own version. Any incident 1 bring up she always has her own version and it is never she did anything, it’s always somebody else’s fault…” the mother of three said.
I interrupted her, telling her of this column and asking permission to publish some of what she was telling me, leaving out any details that might identify her. She hesitated before giving me the go ahead, while making it clear that she did not want to be identified.
“Now you’re telling me you want to write what I say I have to be careful about what I say and even how I say it,’ she said with a small laugh.
“But girl this situation is real. I am not telling you no lie and maybe you wouldn’t understand what I am saying,” she added.
I wanted to say I understood more than she knew, but I held my tongue.
“For years, being around my mother was always like a task, like I have to prepare myself because most times we are one second away from an argument. And when we are done, I feel tired and sometimes feel like I really do her something because of how she would behave and then the tears would come. I knew what she was doing but it did not stop me from feeling that I did something wrong,” she continued.
“And that is how it has been for a while. My children love their grandmother and sometimes I envy and wonder why it could not have been the same for me. Like why she abandoned me all those times and why she could not hug me like she hugs my children and why she only touched me when she wanted to hit me.
“That is just the tip of the iceberg because sometimes I don’t like talking about it, but it was hard. The thing is now I can see that my mother is on her death bed. I could see it and I want to forgive her, but I also want her to just say sorry,” she said, and I could hear her voice breaking. “We are not having any conversation. Anytime I try, she would turn her face, or she would start to cry out for pain, and I would feel so guilty. The other day I asked her if she can’t even tell me she was sorry for what she did to me when I was child and she looked at me with almost like a hatred and asked me if 1 didn’t see she was dying and if I just want her to die faster.
“I didn’t know what to say and I just left the room in tears. Is like I can’t tell anybody, not even my husband because I don’t think they would understand and they might even say I am being selfish but with each day is like I just want to get closure. That is all I want before she dies.”
I knew at that point she was crying, even though I could not see her.
I was not sure what to say and I listened as she cried silently for a while. I then told her I understood her need for closure. I read somewhere that closure is tantamount to letting go of what once was. This had me wondering whether my friend cannot just let of her childhood hurts without hearing sorry from her mother. But then again, I don’t think there is a one-size-fits-all solution when it comes to the process and who am I to say what she needs before she finds closured?
“Anyway, girl thanks for listening, I have to run. So many things to do,” she said, jolting me out of my train of thought. “Maybe I will get the closure and maybe I would not get it but as they say life goes on,” she further said.
We exchanged a few more words before the conversation ended and I retired to bed. But sleep did not come for a while as I thought of what my friend had told me, and about the sometimes-difficult relationship I have with my own mother. But I took away one thing from our conversation and that was to be the best mother I could to my children. And even if I don’t get it right all of the time, I want to be the mother who would allow ‘that’ conversation if there is ever the need for it.
