Posted by Anonymous.
It’s been over six years now since you left this world. I think about you every day. I wonder what you would think about the grandchildren you left behind and the grandchildren who’ve come along since you left us. You definitely loved your grandchildren no doubt. I used to watch in wonderment at the interaction between you and the grandchildren and wonder why you never felt that way about me. It’s amazing how a grandmother’s love can be so different from a mother’s love. It’s also amazing how you as a mother could show your love between your children so differently.
I came to know and love you better as an adult. I could actually understand your actions better after you finally disclosed your sexual abuse as a child by your relatives.
What I don’t understand is why you chose me as your target when I was a kid. Why was I called names and insulted, slapped in the face so often?
Why did people allow you to call me “fat, lazy heifer” instead of my name for weeks on end? Why did the school allow you to send me to school with just a cold hamburger patty and an orange in my lunch box for weeks on end because you thought I was too fat? I look at the pictures of me when I was 8 yrs old and I see a normal sized child. Why were you frequently over feeding me and then either making fun of me or denying food to me? Why didn’t you care that I was humiliated by you every day? Do you think your name calling and insults could have something to do with me being 75 lbs over weight today?
Why were you so violent? Did you enjoy seeing me cry? What about the welts and bruises?
Weren’t you embarrassed for people to see me? I was told that when I learned how to act right, you wouldn’t have to do that to me anymore. Why would a mother ever NEED to make her child bleed or bruise? You could try to make me believe that I deserved whatever punishment you dished out, but when other adults questioned me about who left the marks I knew that it wasn’t right. I knew other kids’ mothers called them by their names and not insulting, hurtful names.
Why did you have to degrade me when I started my period? Why was every new aspect of puberty an excuse to belittle or embarrass me? Why was it my fault when an uncle tried to molest me? I never said I enjoyed being “manhandled” as you accused me. I was 12 years old! Couldn’t you remember when you were molested as a child and no one helped you?
Why did you upturn my room and empty my closet and drawers out onto the bed every time I left the house for years? What were you hoping to find? I was too scared of you to ever drink or do drugs! You would have killed me if you’d ever found anything.
Why would you leave me for days on end with the people who abused you? Did you want me to be abused, too?
Why did you love my sisters and not me? What was wrong with me? Did you have me too soon after the first baby? 20 months apart was just too much for a 22 yr old, I know. But it wasn’t my fault! Why did you have more kids if you didn’t have enough emotional capacity to love them all equally?
Why did the other kids get to take piano lessons and have friends spend the night? Why was it ok for them to go to camp? Why was I ALWAYS on restriction? I remember, my grades! When I got behind in school, did it ever occur to you to help me? You were a college grad, you could have helped a 3rd grader with math homework before it got so bad that I got so discouraged that I could never recover. But, no, your solution was to put me on 3 months TV restriction, until the next report card. Did you honestly think that would help me understand multiplication and fractions?
When high school came around, why did you discourage me from going to college? Why did you refuse to help with filling out financial aid and application forms? When I told someone my dream of being a physician’s assistant, why did you laugh and tell everyone, “She’ll never make it”? Why did you make it easy for my sisters to go to college and refuse to help me?
What was so different or unlovable about me? Why was I your target? I think I could have peace in my life if I just understood your reasons and motivations. Unfortunately it’s too late now. I’ll never understand or get the answers I crave. I do try to look ahead and be the best mother to my children that I can be.