TheBanyanTree: Happy Birthday, Mommy Dearest

[Margaret R. Kramer]

Today is my mother’s birthday.  She would have been 78 years old.  That
doesn’t seem old to me now that I’m 54 years old.  She died when she was 52
from a massive heart attack.  She was getting ready for work and collapsed
in the kitchen.  By the time the ambulance got her to the hospital, she was
dead.

I was 28 years old when she died.  Her death was my indoctrination into
death of loved one.  Her death affected me deeply, but not because my mom
was a great person, she was a witch, but because she was close to me and I
had not yet experienced that type of loss.

My mother was a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde type personality.  She was a
controlling and abusive witch in private and a pillar of the community in
public.  She often stated if any of us told her friends what a witch she was
at home, they wouldn’t believe us.  And that’s true; her friends thought she
was the best person ever.

But she was my mother and I didn’t know anything different until I started
to hear about other people’s families and realized my family was off the
charts dysfunctional.

Here’s a classic example of what my mother was like.  Now remember, back in
the 60s, people were allowed to punish their children as they saw fit.
There was no child welfare, no child protection.  I remember my neighbors
beating the crap out of their kids on their front lawn.  All anyone did was
look away.  It was their business how their punished their children.

One day, I probably about 10 years old, my sister and I were playing in the
backyard.  I hit my little sister because she did something that bothered
me.  I don’t even remember what it was.  But my mother saw it and came
storming out of the house, dragged me inside, and then got a belt.  She beat
me on my legs until they turned black and blue.  Whack, whack, whack, over
and over again, screaming at me, “That’s what you get for hitting your
sister!”

That makes a whole lot of sense, doesn’t it?

And because it was the 60s and not now, because she could never get away
with that kind of behavior in 2010, she made me wear shorts for the next
several weeks, so I could display my bruised legs to everyone and tell
anyone who asked why my legs were like that, “Because I hit my sister.”

That’s just a small example of what my mother was like.

I was really sad when she died, but her death was also like breath of fresh
air blowing through our family, because she was such an oppressive,
controlling, and abusive person.  It was like ding dong, the witch is dead.

But, anyway, thanks for the memories, Mom.

We had a great week, because the weather was so warm.  It was wonderful to
get the storm windows up and drop the screens down and have the fresh spring
air flow through the house.

I wore my flip flops to yoga instead of shoes and socks.  And I haven’t been
wearing a jacket.  I put my boots away in the closet.  I took a few lawn
chairs out of the garage and put them on the deck.

This morning, I met my fellow phone interviewers at the St Paul Farmers’
Market and then we went to Mickey’s for lunch.  It was packed, but the five
adults and one three year old smushed into a booth and ate greasy hamburgers
and French fries.

It was great to see them.  I hated the phone interview job, but I LOVED the
people.

I took Shadow for our weekly walk around Lake Como.  And then I took Axel
for a walk around the neighborhood.  The paths were packed with people,
kids, dogs, and even a cat on a leash.

Joe and I are going to have pizza and wine and watch the Final Four this
evening, I only have Duke and that pompous ass Mike K left in my Final Four
picks.

It’s not the warmest day ever, but it got to 60 degrees, and the sun was out
with a lot of wind.  The wind was probably my mother trying to ruin a
perfectly fine day.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com
www.polarispublications.com
www.linkedin.com/in/margaretkramer

Within you I lose myself...
Without you I find myself
Wanting to be lost again.  
-Author Unknown