Native American Day of Mourning…..

The sun was barely in the sky. I found myself laying in bed fuming like a chimney. My mother had questioned my heavy weight despite my clear boundary of don’t. It continued with a laugh. I countered with a texting rant of how she has to respect my boundaries before I vanish again. I did not speak to her for two years and she wonders why.
Melancholy and forlorn, I bustled around my house. Her response indicated a zero balance in her negative account which left me speechless and pensive. Why did god choose this woman to be my mother? I will never know. She has caused many a day of pain in my life and this will be another one to add to the heap.
As my sandwich was consumed, I thought about the me of 2009. By now, I figured that I would be married with a family perhaps living elsewhere. Instead, I’m single and still reside in the same home. My heart knows more bitterness from failed romantic endeavors and has resigned itself to being alone. A divine union has eluded me for my entire adulthood. Love is beyond my grasp. People are used to me being alone. No one asks me if I’m seeing someone because I never am. I am not the girl that has tried on a wedding dress. It simply never happened for me. Then the spark came.
The relationship that I have with my mother is one of contention. She is unable to accept me for who I am. It has caused her to be jealous, bitter, toxic, and outright cruel towards me. Control freak, master gaslighter, and the ultimate complainer. Nothing has ever been good enough for her when it comes to me and I settled on the fact that it never would be in my younger days. When you compare this void to my love life, the complicated puzzle begins to make sense. Is it any wonder that I believe in Mother Mary so very strongly?
I am not Catholic. Mary was not a part of my upbringing beyond making Christmas appearances. As an adult, I have come to know her as a very loving presence that embraces you regardless of any trappings that a human life places upon you. She sees you as a being that she loves. Period. You are welcome in her family. You have a purpose and she supports you. She is the ultimate divine mother for whom I am grateful. There are other maternal presences in my life. There is a fairy godmother that cheers for me on the sidelines as well as a few aunties here and there. I wonder how my father shakes his head at the mess his widow has made in his eternal slumber.

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