my mom

My mom hated her home town.  She wanted out.  Her and my father went to school together.  They dated and decided to get married.  My mom would get to leave that town....My father joined the Navy and was stationed at Virginia Beach.  My mom moved with him from the midwest to the east coast.  She knew no one.  My dad was a sailor on submarines...he was at sea 3 mos at a time.  So I guess my mom started going to the NCO club and met Ronald (my soon to be new "dad".  He was alot older than her and very debonair (according to my mother).  He was also a drunk and had secrets...My mom started having an affair with Ron while my dad was at sea....she was pregnant with me, while sleeping with Ronald.    I do not know how long she and Ron carried on...I was born...

My aunts raised me for awhile...My mom and father divorced.  She married "dad" . at some point they moved back to Texas, grande Prairie....the nightmare began.....

My "dad" was a horrible mean violent drunk.   He beat my mother constantly....I would sit in my bedroom, back against the door with my sister and listen to the blows...to the furniture being broken and thrown around...It was awful....

One night after the fight was over and "dad" slammed out of the house, I creeped into my moms room to find the mattress flipped over and my mom laying on the floor underneath the bed mattress...but she was not crying, she was laughing...he had beat her badly, but she was laughing...I will never forget that....

After my brother was born, "dad" stopped hitting my mom..She was always holding my brother, so he never hit her....The rage turned to me, his "step daughter"...I became his whipping board...

I would get beat over and over and my mom would just watch, or stand there, holding my brother, not offering to help....

I use to hate her for that....for letting or allowing him to do those fucking awful sick things to me....but....before my brother, he did those awful sick things to her....She was just a victim, like me....

I do not remember my sister ever being abused...she was his bio daughter, as was my brother...but I was expendable...

To this day, my mom and I have been strained, our relationship.  I do not hate her, I wish I did....do I love her?  I fucking don't know, she is my mom, am I suppose to love her, forgive her???

Even after she left "dad" and remarried my new step dad, Jim, who is a wonderful loving man, a good man...we still did not get along.  My mom never went to any of my sporting events growing up, she never went to school programs or anything...she never supported me, never.....she put clothes on my back, food in my mouth and a roof over my head...the basic essentials....but that was it...I was neglected emotionally my entire life, by her.  (it was my bio dad that even educated me on female periods, for god's sake...)

I am a constant reminder to her of her mistake (leaving my father and marrying Ronald)...I am a constant reminder of the abuse she endured and the fact that she did nothing to stop him from abusing me...all she cared about was her precious son, David.   My sister and I to this day refer to David as "The Golden Child"...all of my moms maternal love was saved for my brother...he was her protector, his infancy protected my mother from abuse...she is indebted to him...us daughters might as well fade away...in my moms eyes, David is the perfect and only child she has......

When I would talk about "seeing a plane crash" or "abusive memories" or whatever, my mom would say "oh you have such a vivid imagination" or "stop looking for attention" or flat out say "I was lying.."  she will not own anything....so, I believed for a long time all those memories were just me, making things up...until I found out the truth....I confronted my mother one time about Ronald abusing me...I was married with three small kids....when I told my mom and asked her why she let this happen, she jumped up out of the chair, ran into the bathroom and started crying hysterically....she never said a word.  My new dad, went in and consoled her then came out and said to me "we will never speak of this again."...the matter was closed.

Fast forward 25 yrs or so,  I am finding out through the internet that all my memories did in fact happen....we are finding physical proof..How do I confront my mother with the truth?  She is almost 80 yrs old now,  should I make the short rest of her life miserable by bringing up the past?  My dad said to never speak of the matter again...does it even matter if I say anything...will it help me?  will it make me feel better?  I already have my vindication, because of the facts...Will she even remember, being as she is so old now....should I just let sleeping dogs lie???

Even though I am in my 50's now, the memories and emotions and fear I felt then, still stings my heart and mind...they are just as raw as if I was that little girl again....I hate my mother.  But do I hate her enough to destroy what little time she has left on this earth, hasn't SHE suffered enough?  She has had to live with the guilt of "Ronald" too....do I really hate her enough to confront her again?  is my hesitation to do this, love?  do I love her???  fuck

My mother was never a mother to me.  I don't need one now, not at this point in my life.