So this Sunday is Mother’s Day.
for a lot of women, the idea of Mother’s Day stirs up sweet memories and big plans.
for some, Mother’s Day is tinged with sadness over their mother not being alive anymore, or painful memories over the loss of a sweet child of their own.
it’s been just over five years now that our oldest daughter left our home, as well as our lives.
the day she left, i felt as if the bottom fell out of my world.
the months following that day were filled with sorrow and agony as we watched her make one poor choice after another, some rendering life-altering consequences.
We tried and tried to have a relationship with her, and each time we felt like we were making progress, we’d find out that she’d been deceiving us once again. And once again, my heart would break a little more.
there were times during that first year that she was actually homeless; yet determined to live life her way. I can’t even begin to describe what it’s like knowing that your daughter is homeless and walking the streets.
What’s even worse, was knowing that my daughter is drawn to anyone who could possibly be bad for her. It was hard enough thinking of her walking the streets, but imagining who she might be with nearly drove me crazy.
in the past five years, we’ve gone a year and a half to two years at a time without hearing from her or knowing where she’s at. For a while, she would call about every eight months, long enough to stir things up, and then we wouldn’t hear from her again for a long time.
when people ask me if i miss her, I always hesitate before i answer, because quite frankly, i miss the little girl that she used to be, not the teenage/adult version of her.
what many people didn’t know was that for about six years before she left, our home was filled with turmoil.
Once she hit junior high, our sweet little girl was replaced with a rebellious, manipulative person who was determined to make our lives miserable.
we sought counseling for us as well as for her, and nothing helped.
we tried everything to earn her love and respect, but she wanted nothing to do with us or any other authority in her life.
once she hit high school, the narcissistic behavior began, and i honestly felt as though i was constantly fighting for my role as the woman of the house. It was so bad that when I’d tell my younger kids to do something, they’d look at my oldest daughter, waiting for her signal as to wether or not they should obey me. I’m not even kidding.
i was under such an oppression during those years that I didn’t even realize how badly i had been struggling with depression.
it wasn’t until our daughter left that my husband pointed out to me that during those hard years i would find reasons to leave the house. I would randomly come up with excuses to run errands or to go out alone. As I reflect back on that time, i can see now that i was most likely struggling with depression even back then, but didn’t realize it due to the stress I was under.
five years have passed, and the memories are hurting less and and less; however, i would be lying if i said that the pain is no longer raw. I’m her mom after all, and i dont think a mama’s heart ever fully heals from losing a child.