There was always a tension towards life in general. And when the negative attitude came at me, I returned my positive. One way of doing that was by forcing my loved one to live, move, and breathe.
I was scrolling through pictures on Facebook that span fourteen years now. Memories came flooding back. The rest is a special note directly to my loved one:
I forced you to be in the Christmas play. You said, “No,” but I said, “Yes, you can do it.” You were unhappy with me. However, the pictures are proof of the effort made just to please me. I never saw it that way when I should have. I’m sorry.
There was the picture when I forced you to come out on the boat with us. With depression, I always thought getting out and taking in fresh air and sunshine would help. It didn’t.
In all the pictures of us spending time at the beach, park, lakes, mountains, and mini-vacations, you smiled, but you hated being there. My hope was if we could get away and enjoy one moment, there would be a willingness to want more.
It never worked.
Nothing I did changed your outlook, motivation, or desire for living. Taking you shopping, baking, decorating, dancing, laughing, playing, talking, writing, or sightseeing proved fruitless.
Nothing ever changed the solid mindset I fought for years.
Solid in what, I never figured out.
Still, you allowed me to drag you from one thing to another. Your efforts were forgotten by me when the same sadness fell over you again. So, I tried something else and something else. I’m sure I wore you down. I wanted to replace whatever was missing.
I should have realized then that what I asked was too much. Moreover, because I kept asking for more, it was interpreted that what you did to please me was never enough. That you were never enough.
But it wasn’t that you were not enough. It was the sense that I was never enough, your children were insufficient, and the gift of life was incomplete.
And I wanted to fix it. I wanted you, my love, to love living.
But it never came to be. (Yet.)
I think there were precious times of enjoyment, fun, and appreciation for the zest and sweet aroma of life experiences. They existed when I was out of the equation. There was laughter and joy when I was absent.
Yes, it hurts. I wanted to be a happy place, but my presence always brought you down. I wanted to share unique experiences and be a piece of the joy. Alas, I was the problem.
Someone once told me, “I’m so sorry she hates you.” That’s the impression people had from what they witnessed and heard.
I became the enemy along the way.
Yes, I stood by your side through it all. In the good and evil, I remained. When the bad got worse and everyone departed, I stood firm. I’m not confident I was wanted, though. The more I stayed, the more despised I became. Eventually, I left you to do what you wanted to do.
Maybe I stood firm but I was in the way. There was a tug between living the life you wanted versus the life you created. I come from a time when we did what needed to be done before we did what we wanted to do.
Those two scenarios don’t always align. I’m the reminder of that truth. I was a problem.
I thank you today for putting in all the effort. In each of those moments, you were always enough. I just wanted so much for you, so I pushed for more. I never stopped because you never seemed happy and I wanted you to be happy. That’s all.
Maybe I did it wrong. But maybe I did it right.
Love, Mom
(I am just talking to myself out loud.)
This is an updated edition of a post originally published on Authentic Truths
Featured Image by Brooke Cagle on Unsplash
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