Laane's blog
Saturday, June 11, 2005

one kind of a mother





Later the day my sister phoned that my mother was taken to hospital with a broken leg.
After years of non-communication they suddenly knew how to find me.
She even lied about finding our phonenumber on internet.
Sorry, "lady", it is nowhere on internet, because it's an intern number of a firm, registered nowhere.
I guess it took her two days to get my mother as far that she could enter her department and take a look in the little book beside the phone.

Last time I spoke my mother is years ago.

She called me all sorts of names through the phone. Telling me I was the worst mother on earth.
After childhoodabuse that was only a minor offence of bad wordchoice.
But it has happened before, and always on times she knew she could spoil.

I called her back to ask why she had done it, and offered her an excuse: "did you drink too much when you called".
She told me "no".
And turned the matter against me. How she as a mother never got attention enough, that her children didn't care about her and the whole litany I know by heart and never ever will repeat to my children.
So we parted in a strange way...

Later that night she phoned and I had the anwering machine on, because I wasn't at home.
It was completely filled till the last bleep with the worst language she knew.
I listened to part of it, and felt so bad.
Someone else would have said she was nuts and would have her rolled away to an institute of the mentally insane, where she would make the world a hell for the other mentally handicapped people and their caretakers.

So many emotions went to me.
A deep longing for my father, who had most of the time been able to shut her up and smoothen the situation for me.
Some sort of depair that I've always wanted a real mother, and got one of the worst.
Anger, because I'm worth far more as a person that she'll ever accept.
Grief, because I deserve far more.
Helplessness, because I wasn't able to change anything about the relationship with her.
Amazed, because there was so much hatred behind her words. Although I knew from the first moment I's been able to understaqnd language, that she didn't want to have me at all.
And relief, because the children were in bed and I switched on the anwering machine, which I almost never did late at night. Glad that they didn't switch it on in the morning to hear if someone from school had called to tell that they had the first hour off, and then hearing their grandmother this way.

So I listened part of the tape, and then was so disgusted that I put a new one in, and decided not to call my mother anymore.
As expected she called me two days after. Answering machine.. filled with her high tower attitude.

Then she started phone-stalking us.
Calling at 2 in the night for half an hour,
and at 3 in the night for half an hour.

She knows that my profession means I have to be available.

She also knows that phoning that way means that 6 children wake up.

But she didn't know that I'd switched the sound off, and that a little clickclacking signaled her late night attempts to scapegoat me even more.

It lasted for weeks and months, untill we took the whole phone-system out and equiped the kids with mobile phones and strict orders only to use them for SOS.
My phonenumber is only known to my best friends, and the vader of the children receives all incoming calls on a non registered number.

No need to inform sister and aunt, because they'd already fallen for my mothers way of thinking. None ever bothered to call again, send a card, answer a mail. They stopped seeing me as a normal human being months ago.

Slowly we came to rest.

---

And now I'm informed my mother is in hospital.

In a normal situation I would pick up a bunch of flowers and hurry there.
But I decided to take a day to think about it.

I feel sorry she's in pain and has to stay in hospital.
I'm quite ready to forgive all that has happened and start taking care of her, her house and everything else.

But what am I doing when I take that huge step?
She will treat me as rotten fish when I arrive at the hospital.
The family will ignore me. Or start being kind-ish, because they want me to take care of her when she comes from home.
I can hardly keep up with matters here!!

They think autism is a bad case of wrong upbringing, instead of a psychiatric disease.
My son is autistic and needs full time guidance. I seldom leave the house!

I know I'm falling short, and I feel a bit guilty,
but I'm not prepared to be treated in a disrespectful manner.
I want to concentrate on my children, who need me fully.

And I don't want the opinions of others about me, clash with the opinion I have about myself.

I know they will see me as harsh, unkind, non-caring and not living up to the duties of a child.
But don't they treat me as dirt already?

It has always been about living up to their expectations.

I'm 50!!!!!

(Well, almost. LOL!)

I have decided to focus my life on my children and on matters that can be changed for the best of more people.
I have worked so hard to gain some feeling of self-confidence.
Each day makes me feel I have to fight not to feel a victim of circumstances.

So there will be a bunch of flowers, as they expect.
With an unexpected little letter, wishing her a rapid recovery.
Maybe with a note that I consider it wise to keep the distance as it is to prevent further problems and unreal expectations in the future.

What do you think?

Friday, June 10, 2005

birthday

Today my autistic son celebrated his 13th birthday.
He didn't want a party, but he wanted the next book of Harry Potter, and the promise that we would take him to the next Harry Potter movie.

OK. No problem with that.
It's always fun to go somewhere with him.
Not because his behaviour, but because he just looks like Harry Potter.

A friend who asked what he got from us was told that he didn't get any birthdaypresents from us.
When I confronted him with the fact the he would get the first book etc., he smiled.
"Well, that's joy for the future."

Luckily his father found some music boxes in the sales, after I'd told him to go and look for something little.
I meant chewinggum or so, but I guess he felt some sense of guilt after starting a row with me about spoiling the boy.





.......about a life ... comments, politics, observations, stories, me




My url:
http://laane.blogspot.com

url other site:
http://imbi.blogspot.com



    The Netherlands
    6 children
    one with autism
    another one with ADHD and dyslexia
    griefcounsellor
    political criticist
    choreographer
    and I can sing for you too.

    Don't comment on my english
    when you can't write my Dutch.


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