Tag: family

Mother Dearest

I was 14 years old when I learned that it was actually the norm to not just love your mother but like her, adore her, have her treat you like you are indeed a person. 

I was 16 when I learned that it was common for her to be a close confidant and respected person in ones life. 

My most prominent memories of my mother are of resentment and her treating me like an object she owned and her servant. And for a long time I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. No one in my family ever said different and I just never brought it up to my friends. 

The crazy part is, I found a picture today of myself as 5 year old girl with my mother and I remember it wasn’t like that at all. But I can’t recall when or how it changed. 

I know I changed when she made me reloacte to small town hell and I know she changed when she saw my I unhappiness coupled with her preexisting depression and her troubles conceiving a baby after myself and my brother. Truth be told most who know me know I don’t care for my mother and it would appear that I never have. She was a shitty person. And she did shitty things to me and my brother and dad and she didn’t care. 

She died two years ago. I wasn’t very cut up about it. 

At first  

A month ago I dreamt of her. I was in a community hall back home and it was dimly lit. And sitting around a circular table were all the versions of my mother I’ve seen throughout our life. I was a little weary hahaha! But I sat I wanted to speak to her. And that’s when I realized after this long Fucken internal battle with myself over our life and what she did to me and how I treated her because of it that I felt as though I should be nicer because I love her but at the same time she failed hard as a mother and I just couldn’t ever treat her the way she thought I should. 

I have always loved my mom. But fuck me if I didn’t Fucken loathe her. But 20 years ago I not only loved her I trusted her and felt safe and protected when I was with her. I knew she would kick a baby to save my life. She was this bright, active, caring, intelligent, nurturing woman. She took care of us and she gave a shit. My mom who I had until I was 11 is my mom. I love her and I lost her the winter I was 11. But every now and then I would get glimpses of her as an adult. And I was on that shit like white on rice. I spent every moment she was like that with her. 

My mother was an amazing woman who was too self conscious to see what she was capable of. And her mental illness won the war after a hard year in our family. 

Trust me I am not making excuses for her. She shit the bed hard and failed my brother and myself in the most Fucken epic hurtful ways. She was a cunt for the last 15 years and I made sure she knew I felt that way. 

But back to the dream. I told her that the version in the tye dye with the long hair was my favorite her. She was the mom I remember when I think of the happy. I didn’t like who she turned into. She gave up and took it out on us. Among other crap. 

But I told her she was my favorite version of her and I’m sorry but I hated the others. They betrayed me and stole from me and spread lies and cost us a family member becasue she became a selfish coward and she told me she already knew that and it was ok. She hugged me and we smiled and the dream ended as abruptly as it started. 

And I don’t expect anyone to hop on my theory boat here. But I only dream of people when I truly deep down miss them or need them and I believe it’s really them just because of how I feel when it’s over and the way the dream plays out. 

And I truly miss her. I have always loved my mother. The mom that was there when I was little is the reason I kept coming back and I helped take of her when she was sick. Why I ever stopped my kids from seeing her, why despite the shitty person she was I never totally walked away from her. That part of me just couldn’t let her go. 

Fuck I fought myself for years overnt because I didn’t understand it. But I’ve been thinking about her a lot and I saw the picture today and it just hit me. 

My mom was a great Fucken lady when she cared about herself and others. But life happens and it turned her into a whiny greedy manipulative bitch. 

I loved her everyday even when she sucker as a human because she really was wonderful. I just wish she’d never  given up. 

Shit happens and people are people and sometimes we change our minds. 

Well remember this is Mz.R.E forever teaching you how to not live your life. 

Oh and remember children, love your mother. But you don’t have to like her. At all. Ever. 

Oh Holidays, holidays, HOLIDAYS!!!

I took a quick look back at this blog I had thought was dead (mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to use it on an iPad -you can stop smirking now- and briefly looked back at previous, very old blogs I had posted. And wow, soooo bitter and kinda funny. And now that I have tooted my own horn and can move on with my day I wanted to touch on Christmas. Honestly, we’re about a little passed half ways between it and for anyone, by which I mean everyone, who hadn’t read my previous post; I had written about a rather dismal one just over ago where I had promised to get drunk at the next one. I also complained about wanting a big one again.
Well let me tell you, I did both of those things and it was AWESOME. But because I’m not seventeen and I am sure no one wants to hear about drunken Christmas, I’m gonna get behind the reasons as to how it unfolded. Being a year later and having improved my quality of life somewhat I wanted to make up to my kids for the not so great previous one and for once relax about a holiday that can be tear inducing sometimes. this is not the booze part by the way,that comes later
My children love this family togetherness. I personally am not a huge fan honestly, if you’ve watched Springer, you have seen the potential for most of my family. Haha! oh if I couldn’t laugh at myself….
That being said, I figured why not invite my parents to this Christmas. We’ve all had a rough year and I thought my dad shouldn’t be alone, the kids wanted to spend time with their grandparents and the whole idea makes a person put more effort into the whole thing. The only downside…. My mother would be there. Now don’t get sensitive about moms here. I am well aware that most mothers are freaking awesome individuals and lots of people love and adore their moms. That’s great, the way it should be. Just not how┬áI feel about my own. We have a lot of bad blood and no it’s just from me being an asshole teenager. My father is great.
This is where the drinking comes in
Now preemptively I had booze ready. I had invited a friend over for Christmas Because other wise she would be alone and my boyfriend, which at this time was still a new relationship. As in no one had dropped an L-bomb new, because I had invited my friend and apparently it would have been in bad taste to invite her and not even mention it to him. I don’t know, I never really dated. This was news to me!
At any rate I also prepared myself for the nightmare that spending A LOT of time with my mother in close quarters would entail. And the fact that these people I hold dear would meet my father, with whom it’s important he at least can tolerate the people I like, and my mother to whom can scare away the people of whom I like.

CURRENTLY:

Like a previous post I made earlier, this is rather old, that Christmas was in 2013 and its not half way through 2015. I know where I was going with this, I was going to rant about my mother, say caring things about my father and reflect on the patience of one of my bes friends and my boyfriend at the time. Not now.

From then until now many, many things have happened. I am no longer the boyfriend from this story, and my very good friend has had a lot of crap thrown her way and is in a very different place. I myself have seen much change. And most importantly, my mother passed away earlier this year. And as much I have somethings I wish to say about her, they shouldn’t be the drunken, bitter feelings I had on this occasion.

For the most part this was a great day for myself, my children and everyone else who was there. And I think it should be remembered that way. Despite the all of it and how it all turned out today, that was one of the best days of my life. I’m going to leave on here as such

Forever teaching you how not to live your life.

Mz. R. E.

759

The Dark Side of Summer

So it has almost been a year since my brother has past. True to my fashion, and the fact that my family seems to make gloomy holidays of deaths,have not said much in the way of it. It just seems in poor taste. It is however on, my mind increasingly more as the day approaches and knowing I have an impending trip right around that time to the parentals domicile doesn’t help. But like most I have a tradition around the beginning of summer and I will do my best to follow it
And so in this rather colder part of North America called Canada, we celebrate Canada Day at the beginning of July. I am sure there are all these amazing and wonderful reasons and things to do on this day to celebrate the day that Canada became Canada. But I am going to tell you how I celebrate this holiday.
I get drunk
Aaaand I watch the fireworks
End.Of.Story
Not anything remotely special, but hey it’s the beginning of summer for me and usually the first childless weekend of the year as well. It’s really all I need. Now THIS past summer of good ole 2013 had gotten off to a rocking start when I had my place broken into and money stolen by someone who was being stupid and I should have been able to trust. Lets call him DOUCHEBAG and well DOUCHEBAG got his ass handed to him and he set off one of the worst weekends of my life! Rent was due, but it got stolen and I had no way to replace this money in time to pay rent and I had to worry about school and what my landlord was going to say and on top of that DOUCHEBAG decided to stay drunk for the next few days. I don’t know where he spent all that time, but it sure ass f!ck was not at my house. I still see red when I think about this.
Well needless to say I put to use my ninja skills to save my ass by Canada Day. Which meant on this day I could finally relax and enjoy my weekend. It was only monday at this point.
But WHATEVER, at least I didn’t lose the whole weekend right?
Well…. I’ll never forget this phone call, the urgency of all the messages I suddenly felt and heard the tone from my aunt, that I’m sure she meant to sound comforting, but to me she sounded more like she was trying then was actually sad and I wanted to strangle her as she blurted out  “Bryne is dead.”
Bryne being my baby brother, my only brother and someone I had just seen a week before. There I was standing on Jasper and 111 instantly sober and a couple hours away from the fireworks.
Sooooo, what did I do? I got re-drunk and went watched the fireworks.
You can think what you want, but my family was 4 hours away and what else do you when you find out that someone close to you is gone?
I watched those fireworks, went home called all the people you are supposed to when things like this happen, said all the things you’re supposed to say when something like that happens and then made the arrangements to get up to my parents place as soon as possible.
The arrival in the booming metropolian of High Prairie would end up being the longest week of my life starting with the dreaded question from my dad “would you please do your brother’s eulogy?”
It goes without saying, I said yes. I didn’t want to, I loathe public speaking and even more so when there will most definitely be emotion involved, but my biggest concern was “what do I say about a guy who always lived with his parents and literally never did anything?”
My brother was a Paranoid Schizophrenic and was diagnosed with depression, ADD and FAS or FAE whichever you want to call it.
I love my brother, but he did not do anything with himself, no work, no girlfriend, no job, no nothing. He was 26 years old and lived like he was eternally 14. How could I do a summation of his life when there was nothing to celebrate or point out, and do this without causing my father more hurt. SO I drank a bottle of Rum and this is what I said……
“A eulogy is supposed to be a summation of one’s life and all they’ve accomplished. I could do that for my brohter in about three sentences.
So instead I will leave you with how I’ll remember his life.
When I was 8 I met a sweet little boy who wanted nothing more than a friend to play with and a bike to ride. Unknown to me, I had just inherited the brother I would soon realize I could not imagine my life without. We spent every waking moment together. Riding bokes. inventing games and tormenting the neighbour lady; stealing her crab apples or killing her flowers. No matter what it was, Bryne was game for it. Even something as simple as squishing slugs with suction cup arrows. But that was who Bryne was. He loved the simple things, things that most of us would over look.
Whether it was watching moveis with niece and nephews or sitting by the river with me as long as we could to avoid having to go home and wash dishes.
I find it hard to celebrate a life that wasn’t filled with great moments to look back on. But for Bryne, he seemed to have enough good ones to make him happy.
I got to see the look of joy in a little boys eyes at the discovery that he could find his mommy and she didn’t have to be the woman that gave birth to him. And he had the knowledge that no matter how mean others could be, his sister would always plant her foot in their ass. He had 3 little people who thought the world of him and the comforting security that his dad would always stand behind him.
Bryne was strong. Strong enough to endure the stares, rude comments and the mistreatments from others with a smile on his face or just brush it off.
He was good natured, filled with good intentions even if his execution of them was a little off.
He was kind, he never said a cruel word about anyone even if they deserved it. The other day I heard someone say ‘he lived his life the best way he knew how’. People always say this when someone passes. But anyone who knew Bryne would know there really wasn’t a truer statement.
Despite the shitty hand he was dealt, he did the best he could with what he had.”
My brother left this world on Canada Day, I watched the fire works that night and will do it every year on that day until I too leave this world. I have made a lot of really shitty choices in my life that I should never have walked away from, for a very long time. He closed his eyes one night and faded away. Life will never be a fair game, but I will try to not make those shitty choices so much or so often. But hey I am human right? I have 29 years of anecdotal proof that I am not the best decision maker.
But I can promise I will always watch the fireworks with you

Forever teaching you how NOT to live your life
The Late Mz.R.E