A lovely day tinged with a little sadness.
The saddness comes from my own relationship with my mother. She was a funny 'un, generous to a fault in somer areas and vicious in others and a temper than was truly frightening. She died from bladder cancer about 9 years ago. I say about, because oddly I just dont' remember the dates when I've lost family members. My dad died when I was 19, first year at uni, but again no idea when exactly and my brother died a few years before mum. He committed suicide.
I never really knew if she did like me, wanted me, loved me. She would tell stories, usually at Christmas, how I ruined her life (I was born 10 years after the youngest of the 3 boys), how had she realised she was pregnant with me sooner she would have aborted me.. sounds awful but she had a way of telling these stories that made it sound funny and everyone would be in hysterics; whereas I'd quietly be dying inside; believing she wished she'd never had me. Then when a few weeks before she died, I was visiting her in hospital because I'd received a call telling me to come home because she was in hysterics believing me and my eldest brother had died (the cancer had spread to her brain), on seeing me she stroked my cheek and told me I was her "darling daughter" and that she loved me. I remember going back "home" stunned and crying my heart out. Why if she loved me had she treated me so badly? Why had she made me feel so worthless, why had she spent so many years telling me how ugly I was on the one hand and then being incredibly generous and helping me financially with various things? Why, had she treated me so differently from the boys?
Questions I'll never have answered but as a mum now I can appreciate that perhaps how I behaved around her and the lies I told because I was so scared of her would infuriate her when she thought probably thought she was giving me everything - perhaps even to the point of spoiling me. **sigh** I don't know, all I can do is hold onto the knowledge that despite everything she loved me and let that be enough. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.
Shell, posted on GP today a loving message for her own passed mum, whom she enjoyed a wonderful relationship with; and it made me think, for all the hurts and screwed uped'ness, my mum was still my mum and despite the negative feelings I have, I do love her and I do wish she was still here; I know she would have adored Rye and spoilt him rotten. As would my dad.. and adoration of my little boy would have cancelled everything else out. Truly it would. I feel sad thatRye will never know my parents and I feel sad I have so few happy memories of her to pass onto him. I do have one thing to thank her for though, she is the driving force of my parental style with Rye. I never ever want him to fear me, I never ever want him to doubt that I love him unconditionally and that I will move heaven and earth for him... and you know, I think she did feel the same about me really, she just had a very screwed up way of showing it.
So yes mixed feelings today.
As for the rest of the day, that was lovely. My best friend had suggested last week that we take both our families to the Zoo today. Plans changed slightly because her husband was feeling a bit off colour, so we went to visit a local farm, have a picnic and then a naughty cream tea afterwards. It was lovely, Rye loved running about playing with my friend's teenage son and then back to hers for chatter and relaxation.
And bless her, she had picked me up a bunch of flowers and made me a lovely card, which on arrival at her house she squirreled Rye away gave them to him and then got him to bring the card and flowers into me. It was lovely and thoughtful of her :) She is a good 'un.
Rye is exhausted, cuddled up in my bed asleep and later tonight, I will clamber into bed next to him, give him a cuddle and thank my lucky stars that I have been given a wonderful opportunity to be a mum and been given a beautiful son who is the joy of my world.