Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to have a mom. I was in class the other day and one of my classmates asked me something and I said something about my “mother” and she said “You know, it says so much in some ways that you call her ‘mother’. It’s so strangely formal. I call mine mamma.” I tried to remember. I think there were times when I was younger and trying to wheedle something out of her that I would call her mommy. It seems strange to me to even think of it now. I can barely even think of her as mom.
It’s been over 6 months now since I last actually saw my parents, other than for a few minutes at my grandmother’s funeral in August. I miss my dad. Less now than I did for a while but there are still days where I feel it and it’s deep and it hurts and I hate it because there’s no end in sight right now. But I don’t miss my mother and my only explanation for that is that I don’t feel like there was that much to miss. It’s not as if she was ever a person I could go tell things to or trust with anything. I don’t remember a time I ever didn’t feel on guard around my mother or like there was a level of emotional danger there. I know she loves me but it has always been both too much and never enough. She is both very distant and unreachable, and also overwhelming in her emotional force.
I wonder what it would be like to have a mom I could call when something exciting happens, or to run to when I was upset or trying to figure something out. I wonder what it would feel like to be comforted and have that be okay. I don’t really have any thoughts on that and truthfully I don’t feel any intense bitterness over the lack. It’s hard to miss what you never really had. There are just days I wonder what life might have been like in that alternate reality where my mother had been able to soften instead of harden, where she had opened up and been able to heal instead of curling up around all of her hurt. I wonder who I would be and if it would be better or worse than who I am now.
It doesn’t matter but I do wonder.