Thursday, November 18, 2010

Apologies to my mother

As I thought could be the case, my mother is finding my posts about depression difficult. And I don't blame her. I'm not being at all fair to her. It was not her choice for me to write this blog, and I didn't give her the option to ask me not to. Perhaps it would have been nicer to clear it with her first. For that, Mom, I am sorry. It can't feel good to have something so private broadcast over the Internet for anyone to see, and I really do understand how this could be difficult. When you've tried to keep something quiet all your life, having your daughter broadcast it to the world could feel like betrayal.

But I want everyone to know that my mother was a really good Mom. And when you consider the personal hell she was going through at the time, she deserves to win a medal. No matter what, if we needed her, she was there. Even when she was feeling her personal worst. I could just as easily written about the hours I spent sitting at the end of her bed talking about the latest problem in my life. Or the times we went out to the swamp behind Black Rock and found tadpoles that we took home to watch as they turned into frogs. Or the countless concerts and plays that my parents sat through to support their daughters. Or the great summer trips we took together. Or the $600 phone bill that summer I was in Europe. It was certainly not all bad. There were tons of good times. And isn't that what life is? It's a combination of the good and the bad. After all, without the bad times, you don't know you're having good times.

There's something you learn when you become a parent, and that is just how hard your parents worked to raise you. A while back I wrote a blog thanking my parents for how they raised us. I meant every word of it. And despite all the crap we dealt with as a family (and every family has it's own brand of crap) my parents held it together. It's rather a miracle (and a testament to my parents' skills as human beings) that my sister and I kept body and soul together long enough to arrive in adulthood - not to mention to get educated and have many wonderful successes.

So, Mom, although it feels like I've been ragging on you, that was not at all the purpose of the Depression blog exercise. You went through really hard times. And I'm sorry you had to go through them. But I'm really hoping that these posts can help someone else NOT go through such hard times.

Listen, if those of you reading this could, would you please express your thoughts to my Mom in the comments? I'm sure that hearing other people express their thanks, sympathy, or understanding would go a long way to making her feel like our story might be helpful - she's not getting all the messages that have been sent on Facebook. Thanks!

P.S. - Of course, thanks to Dad, too. Because he stayed (I thank him for a lot more, by the way, but his staying was huge!). A lot of men wouldn't have. He has a very big heart, even though you might not know it from his sometimes gruff exterior. An exceptional human being who has gone through more than enough in this lifetime. Dad, may the remainder of your time here with us (which I hope is long) be filled with peace and joy - you've earned it.

5 comments:

  1. Sandi, your Mom was the absolute best Brown Owl a girl could have had, and I have always thought of her as my "second Mom" because I think I spent more time at your house than at my own! Even when you and I, Sandi, were going through one of our times of "not talking", your Mom was always there!!!

    Reading your posts gave me an even greater respect for your Mom and I am really glad I have known her since I was small

    Liz

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  2. I couldn't agree with Sandi more. Being a parent is the hardest job in the world, even under the best of circumstances. And having the job of parenting while dealing with any kind of medical issue, must be unspeakably difficult. I've never had the pleasure of meeting Sandi's mom, but I've worked with Sandi and count her as my friend. So to Sandi's mom...congratulate yourself, your daughter is an excellent person and you should be proud of the both of you!

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  3. Really great writing here Sandi ... makes me want to start a Blog myself.

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  4. Sandi,
    First of all, I just read this thread. It is very well written and you explain some of the unexplainable very, very well. I applaud you for your courage. It makes me want to write about my own battle with "the blackness". Hugs <3
    Secondly, one of the best birthday presents I ever got was a letter from one of my daughters. She thanked me for being so strong and holding myself together enough for them. That point, where someone actually acknowledged my "strength", was enormous for me. I hope your mom feels the same.

    Dale

    PS: This is posted as anonymous because it's late and I can't figure it out!!!

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  5. Sandi,

    I can't think of any other words to say to your mom that could mean more than Thank you. Your mom quietly looked out for me, took care of me and was my "second" mom on many guiding trips. Especially when I got hurt, which was quite a few if my memory recalls correctly. :) She was always gentle, patient and supportive to me. Your mom is great! Of course your dad was right there poking and prodding me to see if anything was broken, he always treated me well too.

    I remember your mom as a happy, organized, compassionate woman. Someone I truly respected and hoped I'd grow up to be like. The glimpse that you have given me into your private life and all the struggles your family has been through, only serves to increase my respect for your mom and dad.

    Kerry

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