I loved my mother dearly because she was an amazingly strong woman who lived through so many awful situations in her life.
My grandmother forbid her from marrying the only man she truly loved (who loved her back wholeheartedly) because it was 1954 and he was divorced and that was shameful and unacceptable in the Catholic church. She became sort of a recluse after that and grieved that loss for years. (Can’t say I blame her – I have letters he sent her and oh, he loved her in a way my dad did not.)
The man she married (my dad) lost his eyesight a year and a half into the marriage and both his legs when I was 10. She worked full-time, taking care of us both without much regard for what she wanted and needed. When I tell you my dad could be a hard-core shithead, that doesn’t even cover it some days. He was angry about a lot of things in his life (booted out of the monastery for being sick and never getting to live his dream of being a priest and his loss of eyesight and legs pretty much equaled zero autonomy) and took much of it out on her. She took it and took it and took it, being wounded to the very core by his words and actions.
And to find that the only child she would ever have adored and loved this man over and above her? The icing on the cake, I’m sure. So much hurt, so much pain she endured.
She was just 44 when my dad died and she never entertained any thoughts about another relationship with someone. As far as she was concerned, she was DONE with that and all her focus turned to me.
Who, of course, did not want that focus and fought it off tooth and nail. I was so very cruel to my mother for a good part of my teen years, desperately trying to get away from her oppressive hopelessness. We would often get into punching and slapping fights, I am sorry to say. Separating out from her became my life’s work because we were enmeshed from the very beginning. 
And so, when her energy departed during the shamanic healing session, I emerged for the first time without her influence. Without the clinging, the desperation and the fear that someone I loved would be cruelly taken from me. I no longer carry the feeling that all I get is the “shitty end of the stick” (as she was wont to say).
I get to be just Lisa.
It feels like I walked into a whole new world where I am strong, where I don’t fear being abandoned, where I can stand in what I know to be true about myself and leave all the crap behind.
It’s her stuff. It’s what she came to work on in the world. How she did with her soul’s agreement is not for me to know. All I know is that I feel free. Like I’ve been sprung from prison after being wrongly accused and incarcerated for 53 years.
It’s taken me this long to be able to step into the next part of my journey. It’s taken me years of therapy, coaching, crying and hiding to get to this place.
I wish I could find the words to convey what a profound moment this is in my life. I feel like a child seeing DisneyLand for the very first time and am filled with wonder and the desire to go on every ride right RIGHT NOW.
Shedding all that doesn’t work for me (pretzel snarfing is a big one!) and inviting in what does has been the order of the week. I don’t think Duty can tell the difference (yet) or if he does, he’s not saying anything. Try as I might to explain all this to him, I just don’t think he gets it. He shrugs and says “Well, if you feel a difference, that’s all that matters.” (sigh) I want to scream at him saying “Don’t you see? EVERYTHING has changed!!” but I don’t because 1) he doesn’t deserve screaming and 2) it will show up in time and he’ll notice it when he’s ready (or not).
As in all matters highly spiritual, I share my joy with those who DO get it: my biz coach and my personal coach. The former saw it happen before her eyes and the latter is helping me manage the enormous sea change that’s taking place. (I am deeply indebted to both women.)
I thought the most complicated relationship of my life with my dad. But now I realize it was with my mom. I miss her and am mad at her in equal parts.
Mothers and daughters. Whatcha gonna do?
I had no idea you’d read his letters to your mom. Have you ever READ Gone with the Wind? There’s a subplot about Ellen, Scarlett’s mother, and her life before Scarlett was born. I think it would speak to you. (You have information Scarlett never got.)