My Mother

 I  had a visit with my mother for the first time since going no contact with her back in July of last year. I hadn't spoken to her, seen her, or heard any news of her. As far as I was concerned, the woman was as good as dead. Through unforeseen events, I met with the saint of a woman that has stuck with her through all of her prescription drug and alcohol abuse. I was stuck in a McDonald's parking lot due to some car issues down the road from one of the main hospitals in my city, one my mother would end up in often due to her own acts of foolishness. Going into my call list, I had seen a blocked number had called me, one which I hadn't remembered blocking. Taking a chance, I called her back. She told me all that she has been through, the verbal abuse at the hands of my mother through all of this. This woman is nothing short of an angel, keeping on despite blow after blow. But, in the end, no matter how kind someone can be, they all have their breaking points, and this was hers. She cried to me and I consoled he as she told me my mother was in the hospital once again. This time however, I was also informed that her landlord would be removing her from her residence because she is too much of a risk. My mother was found naked, face down, with an exploded colostomy bag because of the sheer amount of alcohol in her system. I made a decision for myself for once, and took charge. My family, all my life, has danced around my mother's drinking problem, turning away from it all. Today, I did what no one else was willing to do and told her the reality of what is to come.

"Michele, you are going to be entering an assisted care rehab facility or you are going to be homeless. [Brother], [Aunt], [Uncle], [various other family members], are all in agreement. We aren't helping you anymore. No more money, no more anything. You have 3 storage units that are unpaid for, they're gone. You are 9 months behind on rent for your salon, you have no car, and no real income. I'm taking your dog into my care permanently. You've done nothing but take from others. [Care-taker] has been nothing short of a saint to you, and you haven't so much as said thank you. Your land lord says you are no longer welcome to live there. Either you get help, or you are homeless. This is the last time you will see me."

I was so unnerved  walking into that hospital. I hadn't seen her in so long. I don't know what compelled me to go. I had closure without her in my life. I told her that I never wanted to see her again, that I didn't want her in my life, and I don't. When I saw her through the window to her hospital room in the ER after she was checked in, I felt like a little kid again. That was my mommy. 

I miss my mom. I miss her everyday. This thing that took her place is a withering corpse that shambles about; a filthy, narcissistic monster that wears her skin. She was so pretty when I was little, so much that people would say she looked like princess Diana. She was. She looked so small in that hospital bed. I don't remember her ever being that small.