Two days ago I was so distraught and upset I did the only thing a son would do in a situation like that; I sought out my Mother. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a momma’s boy but I certainly do hold a special place for her in my heart. Regardless if we get along or not…I still love my Mother unconditionally.
I fought and argued with my Mom about as much as any other kid. But whenever I needed her support, she seemed to always lend an ear even if she wanted to or not. When my ex-fiance left me two years ago with a mound of fucking debt, I called my mother. It felt more like I was interrupting her more than anything with my problems though. I didn’t feel that connection as I once did when I was younger. It felt like she was just brushing off the problem with words she thought I wanted to hear.
I called my mom a lot when I was in basic training. Mostly tearful conversations of me missing her and wanting to come home. And she’d always tell me to pull myself up by my boot straps and get my ass back into the game. Tough love, I suppose. I could feel the love through the phone. She genuinely cared about me and was worried about my making it through basic training in one piece. What mother wouldn’t worry..? It’s basic fucking training. A bunch of kids running around with guns.
One fateful evening while I was stationed in Germany in 2001, I called home and my mom kind of gave me attitude over something stupid. Like, she didn’t have time for her son. I called a lot, as I recall, from Germany to home always asking for shit. And I think one day she just got tired of her son asking for shit. She hung up on me and when I called back I gave her an earful. No mother wants to hear her only son call her a bad mother.
Since then our mother/son relationship has suffered. I got out of the service for a brief eight months in 2003 and I struggled with bills the entire time. I was always asking my parents for money and then when the war kicked off in the Middle East, I think I was the first single male in line at the Everett recruiting station. I can’t remember if my mom cried that time or not.
Now…I’m sort of in the same boat. Except I’m not struggling with bills. Or asking anyone for money. This time I’m asking for emotional support. Really, from anyone that wants to take that task on. I’m lonely, depressed, unsure of my future and most of all, alone. I really don’t have my own place I can call home except my little P.O box at the post office and my storage shed down town where I keep my motorcycle:
I suppose holding down two jobs kind of gives me something to do and a little cash to throw around…but it’s not the end all to my problems. I’d still be this miserable even if I had $80K a year. Well, maybe a little less miserable but you get my point.
Two days ago when I called my mother (I called twice) and even though she didn’t answer, she never called back. I suppose I wouldn’t call me back either because roughly 8 months ago her and I had another falling out sort of like the one back in 2001. It was brutal. Lots of cuss words, insults…you know. And when I think back on all of that, I never apologized for either yelling match. Neither did she, but that’s not the point. There’s no real closure for either of us on either issue and some of that is probably still causing a lot of the tension, anger, and hatred today. I don’t hate my mother by any means…but I can sense the lack of love.
When I arrived at my mother’s house I was in tears and I just wanted a hug from her. I needed that mother/son bond. I needed that physical touch to make me feel like I mattered in life and when she wasn’t at home, I was lost. If she had have been home I may have been able to go to work and function like a normal human being. And if she had have been home I was ready to ante up an apology and put to rest some of this tension between us:
Mom, I love you, first and foremost, and I know I haven’t been the best son or even come close to how I should have turned out. I don’t blame you for my short comings and I certainly don’t harbor any ill-feelings to you or Dad for how my life is shaping out. You and Dad created your own and have done a good job. I’m not hateful for what you worked your ass off for.
I just wanted to come over here and see your face one last time…and hug you. I wanted to apologize for my horrible words to you in 2001. It eats at me every day, maybe not as much as it eats at you, but it still does. And as far as I’m concerned, I was in the wrong eight months ago when we had that falling out too. I was upset over the email you sent me, I didn’t give you a fair shot at explaining yourself and over the years I’ve never given you a fair shot at explaining anything. You deserve better than that. Mom, I love you, always. Don’t forget that.
And then I’d have been on my way.
Two days ago, I wanted to die. But I’m still here on planet Earth and that says a lot about who’s in my life, and who’s here for me. I’ve become sort of a hermit in my days, aloof from society and detached from the real world and friends. I keep to myself more so now than I ever have. And I think that sort of brings out the worst in my depression. I’m a people person by nature. I love being in the social atmosphere and chumming around…but at the same time…I hate it.
You gotta have friends in this life to make it.
You gotta have people you can count on to survive.
And you gotta make sure those people who are supporting you know that you give a shit about them.
I love you.