I haven’t seen my mother since 2007. We’d had a somewhat rocky relationship after I came to live with her when I was 16 years old.
After escaping my alienating father’s clutches, I moved south to Mt Morgan to live with Mum. I moved out of home a few months later when I met my first boyfriend.
Mum and I had a normal mother-daughter relationship, in that we baked and shopped together. I set her hair in curlers, (just as she had done her entire life) and manicured her nails as she grew older. We would sit and eat homemade scones lathered with jam and cream and compliment them with a pot of steaming hot tea. When I had my children Mum would babysit for me on occasion. Sometimes the kids would stay at her place for a couple of nights. It was all the stuff that normal families do together, and I loved it!
The rockiness I referred to above is related to my mother’s judgmental and unempathetic nature that was, unfortunately, the predominant aspect of our relationship. Much like the character of Marie on the sitcom ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’, my mother liked to stick her nose into everybody’s business, especially mine. Watching the TV show always made me laugh. I could draw so many similarities between my mother and Marie. It was art imitating life.
But when you’re living the experience, it’s not so funny.
Mum meddled in my marriage to the extent that my husband could no longer tolerate her manipulative ways. I have been married twice, so to clear this part up…neither of my husbands’ could tolerate her manipulative ways. And in the end, neither could I.
It wasn’t just her meddling that I couldn’t handle. I had a lot of pent up resentment towards my mother about my childhood. There were things that happened to me that never should have been allowed to happen. While living with my mother I was surrounded by people with nefarious intentions. People my mother chose to call her friends.
When I was 38 I cut all contact with Mum. In fact, I cut all contact with my entire family. I had felt let down by them all at the time, and so I decided to go my own way. It was something I was able to do because of the solitude I experienced in my childhood. I had learned to survive without them.
My mother had been just as much a victim of parental alienation as I had in the beginning. I had been stolen from her by my father. Over the years, as I grew into an adolescent, I believe she also learned to live without me, and she began taking care of her own needs first.
Her unsympathetic treatment of me in later years, at a time in my life when I needed her the most, was really the straw that broke the camel’s back. It signaled the beginning of the end of our relationship… R.I.P. Jo-Anne (not her real name) & Elona 1969-2007.
My mother now resides in a nursing home in Queensland. She will be 90 this year. One of my brother’s stays in touch with her, but only occasionally by letter. My other three brothers have pretty much wiped her. They too have some sort of resentment over their childhood.
Just as my father had, Mum is paying the price now, for things she did years ago.
I have resumed contact with one of my brothers. After 11 years I turned up on his doorstep, not knowing if it was still his house. He opened the door, looked me up and down and said “I knew you’d turn up one day.” We phone each other regularly, and he keeps me updated on Mum.
When the time comes for her passing he will let me know. I won’t be there. Nor will I attend her funeral. My heart just isn’t in it. She knows where I stand as my brother has told her. And deep down, even if she won’t admit it to herself…she knows why.
It was harvest time and the crop that my mother had planted and failed to nurture now bears the fruit of her labour or lack thereof.
I haven’t seen my mother since 2007. We’d had a somewhat rocky relationship after I came to live with her when I was 16 years old.
After escaping my alienating father’s clutches, I moved south to Mt Morgan to live with Mum. I moved out of home a few months later when I met my first boyfriend.
Mum and I had a normal mother-daughter relationship, in that we baked and shopped together. I set her hair in curlers, (just as she had done her entire life) and manicured her nails as she grew older. We would sit and eat homemade scones lathered with jam and cream and compliment them with a pot of steaming hot tea. When I had my children Mum would babysit for me on occasion. Sometimes the kids would stay at her place for a couple of nights. It was all the stuff that normal families do together, and I loved it!
The rockiness I referred to above is related to my mother’s judgmental and unempathetic nature that was, unfortunately, the predominant aspect of our relationship. Much like the character of Marie on the sitcom ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’, my mother liked to stick her nose into everybody’s business, especially mine. Watching the TV show always made me laugh. I could draw so many similarities between my mother and Marie. It was art imitating life.
But when you’re living the experience, it’s not so funny.
Mum meddled in my marriage to the extent that my husband could no longer tolerate her manipulative ways. I have been married twice, so to clear this part up…neither of my husbands’ could tolerate her manipulative ways. And in the end, neither could I.
It wasn’t just her meddling that I couldn’t handle. I had a lot of pent up resentment towards my mother about my childhood. There were things that happened to me that never should have been allowed to happen. While living with my mother I was surrounded by people with nefarious intentions. People my mother chose to call her friends.
When I was 38 I cut all contact with Mum. In fact, I cut all contact with my entire family. I had felt let down by them all at the time, and so I decided to go my own way. It was something I was able to do because of the solitude I experienced in my childhood. I had learned to survive without them.
My mother had been just as much a victim of parental alienation as I had in the beginning. I had been stolen from her by my father. Over the years, as I grew into an adolescent, I believe she also learned to live without me, and she began taking care of her own needs first.
Her unsympathetic treatment of me in later years, at a time in my life when I needed her the most, was really the straw that broke the camel’s back. It signaled the beginning of the end of our relationship… R.I.P. Jo-Anne (not her real name) & Elona 1969-2007.
My mother now resides in a nursing home in Queensland. She will be 90 this year. One of my brother’s stays in touch with her, but only occasionally by letter. My other three brothers have pretty much wiped her. They too have some sort of resentment over their childhood.
Just as my father had, Mum is paying the price now, for things she did years ago.
I have resumed contact with one of my brothers. After 11 years I turned up on his doorstep, not knowing if it was still his house. He opened the door, looked me up and down and said “I knew you’d turn up one day.” We phone each other regularly, and he keeps me updated on Mum.
When the time comes for her passing he will let me know. I won’t be there. Nor will I attend her funeral. My heart just isn’t in it. She knows where I stand as my brother has told her. And deep down, even if she won’t admit it to herself…she knows why.
It was harvest time and the crop that my mother had planted and failed to nurture now bears the fruit of her labour or lack thereof.
I haven’t seen my mother since 2007. We’d had a somewhat rocky relationship after I came to live with her when I was 16 years old.
After escaping my alienating father’s clutches, I moved south to Mt Morgan to live with Mum. I moved out of home a few months later when I met my first boyfriend.
Mum and I had a normal mother-daughter relationship, in that we baked and shopped together. I set her hair in curlers, (just as she had done her entire life) and manicured her nails as she grew older. We would sit and eat homemade scones lathered with jam and cream and compliment them with a pot of steaming hot tea. When I had my children Mum would babysit for me on occasion. Sometimes the kids would stay at her place for a couple of nights. It was all the stuff that normal families do together, and I loved it!
The rockiness I referred to above is related to my mother’s judgmental and unempathetic nature that was, unfortunately, the predominant aspect of our relationship. Much like the character of Marie on the sitcom ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’, my mother liked to stick her nose into everybody’s business, especially mine. Watching the TV show always made me laugh. I could draw so many similarities between my mother and Marie. It was art imitating life.
But when you’re living the experience, it’s not so funny.
Mum meddled in my marriage to the extent that my husband could no longer
tolerate her manipulative ways. I have been married twice, so to clear this part up…neither of my husbands’ could tolerate her manipulative ways. And in the end, neither could I.
It wasn’t just her meddling that I couldn’t handle. I had a lot of pent up resentment towards my mother about my childhood. There were things that happened to me that never should have been allowed to happen. While living with my mother I was surrounded by people with nefarious intentions. People my mother chose to call her friends.
When I was 38 I cut all contact with Mum. In fact, I cut all contact with my entire family. I had felt let down by them all at the time, and so I decided to go my own way. It was something I was able to do because of the solitude I experienced in my childhood. I had learned to survive without them.
My mother had been just as much a victim of parental alienation as I had in the beginning. I had been stolen from her by my father. Over the years, as I grew into an adolescent, I believe she also learned to live without me, and she began taking care of her own needs first.
Her unsympathetic treatment of me in later years, at a time in my life when I needed her the most, was really the straw that broke the camel’s back. It signaled the beginning of the end of our relationship… R.I.P. Jo-Anne (not her real name) & Elona 1969-2007.
My mother now resides in a nursing home in Queensland. She will be 90 this year. One of my brother’s stays in touch with her, but only occasionally by letter. My other three brothers have pretty much wiped her. They too have some sort of resentment over their childhood.
Just as my father had, Mum is paying the price now, for things she did years ago.
I have resumed contact with one of my brothers. After 11 years I turned up on his doorstep, not knowing if it was still his house. He opened the door, looked me up and down and said “I knew you’d turn up one day.” We phone each other regularly, and he keeps me updated on Mum.
When the time comes for her passing he will let me know. I won’t be there. Nor will I attend her funeral. My heart just isn’t in it. She knows where I stand as my brother has told her. And deep down, even if she won’t admit it to herself…she knows why.
It was harvest time and the crop that my mother had planted and failed to nurture now bears the fruit of her labour or lack thereof.
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