“i Wanted You. You Didn’t Want Me”She’s not a bad person, and when I really look at it, I think I can only feel sorry for her. She’s a lonely, bitter, miserable woman and I don’ think she ever wanted kids nor she did she really want to get married. I think she would have been happiest if she remained single, became a caretaker for her mother and had a little dog for company.
The thing is, when I look back, I can’t recall any warm moments of her. She was never really there. I can remember my father clearly. I remember we used to go cycling by the lake, he would take me for milk shakes, I would practice shooting the soccer ball with him in net, and hell, I even remember this one time he assisted me in catching this frog that jumped into our neighbour’s yard and he actually came with me around the block to their house to ask permission to go get it haha (But unfortunately, the frog jumped back into our yard and my mother accidentally ran over him with the lawn mower so I buried him). But I can’t recall anything with my mother. It’s like, she purposely put space between us. It’s like, she was afraid of the very family that she was responsible for raising. I remember recently, I heard her on the phone talking to a relative saying how she “sacrificed her career to be a homemaker and look after the kids” but I cannot recall her ever being there.
She’s very sly though. I realize that EVERYTHING she has ever done for me was to fortify her argument that she had involvement in my life. It’s like she had a mental checklist of what a “normal, loving mother” would do, and she did them (dispassionately of course) so I would have trouble making the argument I’m making now--- that she didn’t do anything for me. Signing me up for peewee soccer (I didn’t really care for soccer), and taking the family to Disneyland (Hell, I remember in one photo, I was actually tear-eyed as she was pinching my neck to make me smile. Her hand was even in the picture). I guess her main argument for “not being there” was that she was busy preparing the meals and making my lunches, but honestly, I think I wouldn’t have minded much if I lived on a strict diet of TV dinners (I’d probably be fatter though). I don’t know why she puts so much space between us and I hate her insincere gifts. Many times I have openly refused to accept any “gifts” from her because it would only make me feel indebted to her and further solidify her false standing. I didn’t want that stupid hockey table and I told her not to buy it and she buys it. She had earned some worker points from her job that allowed her to purchase merchandise online and she asked me if I wanted the Ipod and I told her to spend it on herself and she bought it for me. Sigh. And now I sound like a whiny little ***** whose mother selflessly bought an Ipod for him. Damn, I don’t want to feel indebted to her. I don’t want to accept these insincere attempts of hers to alleviate her guilty feelings of being an absentee mother.