Hey, everyone. This is the first time this week I've really discussed this outside of talking to my husband, and even then I feel like this might give me a chance to express what may not be appropriate to express to my husband. I'm sure he would understand... I just don't want to come off as un-feminine.

After 40 years of heavy and drinking and 35 years of hepatitis C, my mother passed away in the hospital. My husband and I had gone the day before to see her and bring her house coat, and we discussed coming back the next day to talk to hospice about moving her into a facility, or back into her own home with help. She seemed like she was doing okay, despite her ascites and jaundice. She complained that she wasn't breathing well, but swore it was because the hospital didn't give her "her" medicine, which was a simple inhaler.

The next morning, I got a call that I needed to come in. Fluid was in her lungs from heart failure, and they asked what I wanted to do. I told them to make her comfortable and I would be there as soon as I could. Once I got there with my grandmother (her mother) she was already in a morphine "coma". She moaned and her breathing was rattling, but they assured me she wasn't in any pain. She never opened her eyes again.

Our relationship was always estranged. She gave me up when I was 10, because she would rather drink than have a child. I lived with my grandmother after that. She fought with me constantly, was overly critical of everything, and even came over drunk and cussed out my then 6 year old daughter last year. While I loved her because she was my mother, I absolutely abhorred every choice she made and everything she did. I thought I would be happy when she finally passed away.

Once she died, and I was left alone with her, the only thing I could repeat over and over was "stupid bitch, stupid bitch, stupid bitch". She could have stopped drinking. She could have gotten her hep c cured. She could have made her life worth something. She chose not to. She wasted 56 years on this earth and left nothing behind but heartbreak and a run-down house that I'm now trying to clean and fix up. She was a nag and a shrew who failed 3 marriages and many, many other relationships. Seeing her life was what inspired me to become the woman I am today. I didn't want to be like her at all.

All that being said, I miss her like crazy. I can't stop crying when I'm left alone. I am so incredibly sad and I don't even really have a good explanation as to why. I want to be so strong for my daughter, who remembers her, because I don't want her to be sadder than she has to be. I had already begun separating them once I found out how ill my mother was, so that she wouldn't be quite as heartbroken. My little boy will never remember her, so at least I have that. I want to be strong in front of my family, because they have already said how well I'm taking this and if I break down in front of them... I know I won't "let them down", but I don't want their sympathy, either. My grandparents lost their first-born daughter on Monday. I just lost a half-ass mom who was never around when I really needed her anyways. I've cried in front of my husband, but I always feel like I need to hold back. I want to scream that I hated her, and that I was so mad at her, and how DARE she... But that isn't very lady-like, is it?

I'm sorry for ranting. I do need some advice, though.

  1. I don't want to be hugged much at the funeral tomorrow, because I like my personal space and I am afraid of breaking down uncontrollably. What would be the best way to let people know I'd rather not be touched?

  2. I found out that one of the women attending my mother's funeral (one of her "friends") actually drank with her on New Years Eve, despite knowing that my mother was DYING from alcoholism. Should I address that, either in person or over the phone, or should I just let it be water under the bridge?

Looking at the bright side, I'm making enough through her life insurance to fix up her house and make it beautiful, then rent it out. I'll finally be a land-lady, which would be a fun and new chapter in my life.

Thanks for letting me vent. I was able to cry a little writing this, and I feel a little better now.