Letter to my mother

Sunday, August 26, 2007 -- Dear Mom!

I must, of course, begin my letter with an apology. Just like the phone calls of yesteryear, I’m always apologizing for things I’ve not done that I should have done.

I’ve been diagnosed with a form of breast cancer. We think it’s just a simple matter of removing the lump and treating me with radiation. But, I have an MRI scheduled for tomorrow to confirm it. You know me, always the worrier. Worry-wart, wasn’t that what you used to call me?

I really can’t believe it. No one in the family had it; however, I still wonder why dad had his breast removed. Obviously, it wasn’t cancer (or, at least not invasive) as he lived a long life after the surgery without any sign of cancer.

Cancer. What a strange word. A very frightening word…at least it scares me. I’ve spent so much of my life worrying about the little things … mainly, the bills, and if you really loved me. Did I measure up as a daughter? What should I have done differently, better, or what did I do wrong.

It would be nice to have you to talk with about it, about my fears. Of course, the biggest regret that I have right now is that I didn’t take proper care of you. I have to know my heart, and in my heart I know I took the quick and easy route. All about me, right? I always thought that you (Dad and Gary) were there to make my life better, without regard for your needs. I was always worried about growing up and letting go, not wanting to, of course.

Perhaps that’s why I’m not taking care of your properly … I’m too busy thinking about myself and my needs. I was always too busy getting myself into financial messes and expecting to be bailed out of them. Okay, I’m not perfect. Okay, I’m selfish and greedy. I’m always thinking that I’m entitled to something. I think that life should be easy and carefree. Okay, I’m starting to understand, now, that it isn’t

Yes, I’m mad at you and Dad for not getting the proper care for Gary; and, knowing that someday it would be my responsibility. Yes, when I really search my heart and soul, I realize that I want-want-want everything I can get. Yes, I’m a greedy little kid that hasn’t grown up.

Now, however, I’m a greedy little kid with some form of breast cancer. I can hear your words, “well, perhaps God is punishing you for being that greedy little kid.” I don’t want to believe that.

Here’s what I want you to say, Mom:
“Chele, I’ve always loved you. I know that it was ridiculous to think that I didn’t want you when I found out I was pregnant with you. And, it was even more ridiculous to tell you. But, you’ve been a great daughter. You’re kind and caring; thoughtful and compassionate. You’ve done and are doing the best you can…which is all anyone can ask of themselves. You’ve been a joy to me, and helped me through some hard times. I know that I’m unable to care for myself; and, I’m in a place where no one should be expected to care for me…except in a professional setting.

You’ve always tried to make the right choices. I know that we didn’t always have the best family dynamic. I know that I had emotional problems that even I wasn’t aware of. I know that I displayed bi-polar systems, even to the point of being hateful. But, I always loved you. I always loved all of my children; and, I always loved your father. We weren’t well educated, and I didn’t have a good sense of myself. I was a housewife, because that’s what was expected of me. Perhaps I even had dreams and ambitions. Perhaps I was always hateful to you when you wanted something (or attained something) because I was jealous. I’m human, that’s the way human’s react. I would have loved to have gotten “more” out of life, but that will never be.

I’m sorry for treating you badly; and, I’m sorry for my own selfishness that resulted in difficult times. I’m sorry that I told you that you didn’t have real friends; I’m sorry that I told you that ‘if they really knew you, they wouldn’t have anything to do with you.’ Put that out of your mind, right now. You know that people like you and care about you…because you are you!

I’m sorry that I wasn’t more supportive of you in pursuing your dreams and ambitions. I’m sorry that I didn’t help nurture your dreams and ambitions. But, as mentioned before, I was a pretty selfish person, too. It’s hard to support someone else when you don’t feel good about yourself.

But, I did the best I could, under the circumstances. I worried about money problems. I worried about Gary. I feel guilt for the way Gary has turned out. I hurt for his current life that may have been caused by something I did or didn’t do. I hurt for all my children when they hurt. But, I’m human. I can’t take away that hurt. I should not have inflicted more hurt, but I did; and, I’m sorry.

I’m proud of you, Chele, for all of the things you’ve accomplished in your life. I’m proud of all my children. But, for whatever reason, I was never able to express it. I was never able to express all the love I have for each one of you.

I worry about your health and the days to come for you. But I know that you’ll get through it … I know that you’re not being punished … it’s just something that happens. I know that God loves everyone and does not punish. I know that God and you are not punishing me, now.

I’m in a good place … I have no longer have worries. I no longer fear what might or might not happen. I know that all things turn out for the best, even if they don’t appear that way now.

I love you and care about you, Chele, that’s all I can offer. I hurt for you and pray for you. I know that everything will turn out okay! Love, Mother.”