Tomorrow is mother’s day.  My mother passed away about 8 years ago from lung cancer.  I cannot say we weren’t close because we were.  I can say our relationship was deeply damaged and broken and that her death, while horrible, freed me up to start to finally create my own life.  I hardly ever really miss her because her presence in my life was a tremendous burden.  This doesn’t mean I didn’t have love for her because I did.  

About fifteen years ago, I was on my way to my brother’s house for a Mother’s Day brunch.  This was in the height of my addiction and I had to stop in Newark to get drugs before I went to his house in order to relieve my withdrawal.  I thought it would only take a moment.  I had a hard time finding anyone to help me that day.  A girl offered to take me somewhere but insisted that I let her drive my car.  I remember clearly telling her that we had to hurry because I had somewhere to go.  I gave her the keys to my car because I did stuff like that back then.  She held my keys hostage for hours and hours.  I was shuffled from place to place as this crazed woman used my car as though it was her own.  I saw horrible places.  My pretty outfit got dirty.  The more I begged for my keys back the harder she laughed at me.  In the end, I ran from her and begged a strange man to help me get my keys back from her.  When I got back in my car, it was far too late to go wish my mother a happy mother’s day.  I never told my mother what happened that day.  It seemed easier to let her think I was a disrespectful thoughtless daughter rather than to tell her the truth of my addiction and where it took me.

Tomorrow is mother’s day and it is fifteen years later.  I have breast cancer and a very, very difficult decision to make.  I have cried alot this morning.  But today, as hard as this is (and it is the hardest choice I have ever hard to make), I did not have to stop in Newark first to get my fix.  I didn’t need to get a bottle of wine and then hide it in a closet in a place Trent won’t look for it.  I haven’t been held hostage by anyone or anything.  This choice fucking sucks but at least I am FREE to make it. 

I said earlier that I found freedom after my mother’s death.  The twisted link between she and I finally broke and I was able to crawl out of the hell I was in and into a whole new wonderful life.  So, after this long diatribe, let me say what I really meant to say today….

Happy mother’s day, Ma.  I love you.

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