Thanks, Facebook for the "You Have Memories" reminder

Dear Momma,

Hey.   I didn’t really want to write you today, nor think of you if the truth be told.  But, that lovely Facebook reminder that I get each day, telling me what happened on this date so many years ago, told me that three years ago you died.  As if I could forget.  As I said, I really didn’t want to talk to you today but since I can’t seem to stop the memories once that door has opened, let’s go ahead and walk down Memory Lane for a few minutes, shall we?

Excuse me a minute while I dry these foolish tears that seem to keep clouding up my eyes.  I certainly didn’t want to cry today.  As a matter of fact, I had my day pretty much planned out and I assure you, Momma, that thinking of you, missing you, and remembering you was not part of my plan.  But plans get changed and I found myself going through old photographs and seeing you in your glory days--days that most often did not include me.  And that was my choice.  Right?  I mean, I was the one who made the choice to not be in your life while you were living it so foolishly.  I was the one who separated herself from being around such an ungodly lifestyle in hopes of sparing my child what I went through.

How could you have been so many different women to so many others?  How come they got to know you as sweet, kind, funny, generous, and as a praying woman?  How come they got to be in your realm as you made your peace with God but didn’t have the inclination to make it with me?  How could you let others so easily be a part of your family and ignore me, my new family, and Mary and her children’s also?  Why did we not matter when we were the ones who needed you the most?

Ahh, Momma!  I am still so angry at you.  I am still so puzzled as to how you could leave this earth without making things right for so many of us.  You had the opportunity--and not just when you found out about the cancer.  You had plenty of time to make amends and yet you...you didn’t.  Instead, you went on to focus your time and attention on those things that you desired in your life the most.  You were supposed to be different!  You were supposed to set the example, to raise the bar.  All of those years of going to church well-equipped you to be the one to make things right when they had been wrong for so long.  Instead, you made a mockery of the God that I know and I shudder as I wonder how you will be judged by Him for what you didn’t do.

Oh yes, I can almost hear you now.  “You think you are so perfect.  Why didn’t you make the effort to reconcile with me?  Why didn’t you ask for my forgiveness for all the hurts you caused me?  How dare you call yourself a Christian when you plainly did not honor your mother--nor your father--as you were commanded?”

And that, Mommy Dearest, is why I did not want to write to you.  Because even though it’s been three years since you passed, the lifetime that you lived was such a waste.  You had so much love to give and you did:  you gave it.  You gave it to those who only saw the part of you that you let out.  You devoted yourself to a church that has since gone on to blacklist your beloved son and his family and I daresay it would have kicked you out too had you survived.  All those who “loved you unconditionally” had some conditions after all.  

Okay, this is not what I wanted to say to you.  This is not what I want my remembrance of you to be today.  The past cannot be undone and it certainly cannot be changed.  The legacy you left behind taught those closest to you to not forgive, to not make the first, second, or third step in reconciling, and mostly Mom?  Mostly your legacy left behind is that of selfishness:  self over child.  Self over family.  Self over God.  You taught me much and so, to honor you as I am commanded, I am going to use these lessons to be better than you were.  I am going to initiate friendships and not hold grudges until my dying days.  I am going to honor you, Momma, by not being religious but by being Christ-like, with His help.  For you see, I am His child and He has shown me more about parenting than you ever did--positive parenting, that is.  He doesn’t hold one of His own in any higher regard than another.  He doesn’t choose which are lovable regardless of skin color.  He doesn’t turn His back on His children when they question, when they struggle, nor when they need Him most.

In closing, while others are anticipating the day they see you again, the reunion that they think will come one day, me?  I’m not so sure that our paths will cross again.  The fruits you left behind had nothing to do with your love but rather with your hate.  Cristi and her family are in church regularly.  Because you took them when they were your grandkids?  Ha!  Only if the others weren’t available.  Speaking of which, how did they turn out?  How much Jesus is in their lives from your fine example?  What?  They don’t go to church?  They don’t have time?  Too busy for the God you placed so highly and radiated in your life?  Oh come on, now.  Momma, surely this cannot be so for you always put Him first in your life, right?

Okay.  Enough.  Enough.

Good bye, again, Momma.  I can’t say “rest in peace” and mean it because you did so much damage to me, to Mary, to Cristi and Chastity.  To our families.  But you know what?  We will be okay.  We are okay.  You taught us how not to rely on a mother or father and since we are all orphans now, we are well-prepared.  Oh sure:  we’d prefer a good momma around to lead us, to cheer us on, to encourage us.  But you took that from us.  Did you ever really give it to us to begin with?  Sadly, yes.  And for that I miss you.  I miss who you once were.  And yeah:  I even still love you.  As I mourn you today, I mourn the woman you were and the woman you could have been.  The picture I attach to this note reminds me of her and that is the woman I miss, the mommy who once loved me.  I see it in your eyes as you looked into the camera I was holding at that moment.  My heart is whispering “I love you too, Momma.”  And  oh how I miss you!