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May 11, 2004
My Mother
(c) 1996
I have a mother
who embodies love and hate
I have a mother
who destroys what she creates
Crying in her misery
She's screaming at her child
Tears made just for you to see
She's driving herself wild
and she knows none of what she does
and she knows what she once was
she was my mother
Moma we used to say
"You and me, we're made of love."
Moma where is that love we used to share
I'm still there
You said you'd give us
A life better than yours
But where is that life you promised us?
Some people will admit that she and I are same
But I've done my best to hide that part of me away
and I know of the crimes she does commit
and I know that I can never banish it
the fact that she's my mother
Living in the shopping malls
Her income charity
social security
stealing the tax payer's money
Some people will admit that she and I are same
But I've done my best to hide that part of me away
and she knows all of what she does
and she knows not of what she once was
she was my mother
she is my mother
she will never be my mother
I love my mother
Posted by irena at May 11, 2004 10:06 AM
Comments
This was originally written while I was a Freshman at USC. My mother, at the time, had demonstrated what a selfish and racist bigot she really was, and she broke my heart. I felt compelled to post it this day after my first visit with my mother in over two years, when she reminded me of what she once was, and what she always will be.
Posted by: irena at May 23, 2004 01:56 AM
My dear doughtier. You really don't know your mother or took time to fined out. To much fat Wally's family influence. It's to bad.
I feel sorry that you chose to feel that way and set your self to be in pain for years to come.
Love allways,
Your's only one mom you got....
Posted by: Your mama at May 25, 2004 08:55 AM
i learned it from watching you, mom.
Posted by: irena at May 25, 2004 10:20 AM
not to be outdone, my mother also wrote me a private email:
"Is that how you feel about your mother... I'm sorry for not meeting your expectations. I tried my best. I see that my best was never good enough for you. I know I have to let you go now, even it's most pailful thing I ever had in my life. Get help Ira. I wish you to get well soon, Irochka.
Love always.
mama"
Here is my reply to her:
"All I ever wanted from you was to be my mom, and not to make me feel guilty for being who I was or wanted to be. I never met your expectations so you made me feel like shit for it. I still feel that pain whenever I look into your eyes, and that is what I couldn't handle.
All I want is smiles, laughter, happiness in my life, and all I remember is tears and pain. Those tears, that pain, came from you.
And who are you to tell me to get help? What a wonderful way to hide being hateful behind false "helpfulness". You don't know me. Nor will you ever try to know me. You just want me to be who you want me to be, not who I am.
- Ira
.. daughter of "fat Wally" and Valentina
Posted by: irena at May 25, 2004 11:14 AM