A Letter to My Estranged Mother on Mother's Day

If some sort of way you’ve stumbled upon this unlisted blog post page, this is your chance to exit before reading the content to come.

I’m a happy girl, but there’s nothing happy here.

Make your way over to my guide aroundLA for happy content. Over there, on my “while in Los Angeles” section, I give you personal suggestions of things to do in Los Angeles, as well as a few peeks into exclusive scenes I experience living in Los Angeles.

Here, today, it’s a little different from my usual lifestyle blog content; that’s why it’s tucked away and I’m not promoting it.

Why am I sharing it?

This little corner of the Internet of mine, my personal blog website, is proving to be an outlet. While I struggle to verbally discuss vulnerable topics, words float freely thru my fingertips.

I don’t know. Is this good? Is this bad? Will I get mad? Yeah, most likely. The moment someone says something I don’t like, I’ll want to fight. I can analyze my mother’s actions, but the moment someone else wants to give a stab at a reasonable opinion, I’m ready to give them an unreasonable jab in the mouth. Yes, logically, I know that’s unnecessary, as most people don’t mean any harm. However, unfortunately, this awareness doesn’t reverse my reflexes.

I want to share… with people I don’t know.

I’m not quite at the level of maturity and restraint to face the opinions of people I know personally on extremely personal topics, such as strife with my mother. To be honest, I’m not confident I ever will be.

No, I don’t want any commentary, (that I can possibly perceive as negative) from anyone, when it comes to my mama. It’s just easier to ignore strangers that will likely never get anywhere near me directly. When it’s a family member, or friend, or co-worker, or anyone I’m bound to see at some point, it’s quite more of a challenge to resist the urge to go tf off.

Even those, that I know mean well, still tick me off. Like girl, thank you, but no, thank you. You’re saying all the wrong things. And you’re not even a good listener. Bye.

As particular as I am, I still have reason to believe this is good. Good for me to release (since I obviously don’t talk to folks ‘bout this stuff); and more importantly, good for the next girl that’s out there, that doesn’t feel comfortable talking to anyone, who may have a similar situation. So, here it is.

My relationship with my mother is distant. Here is the handwritten letter I wrote to her for Mother’s Day.

I spent 5 hours writing cards; my mother’s was the last, as it was the most taxing.

Dearest Mother,

Let me start by saying that I did notice you haven’t called on me to take care of your bills lately, and yes, I am proud of you for making improvements in your finances. I look forward to continued financial growth for you.

In regards to your multiple comments about me not having given you gifts lately, I suppose I’m not in the mood to reward bad behavior. No, I haven’t had to pay your bills in recent times, but you still haven’t been stepping up to the plate like we are in need of you doing, and you’re capable of doing. It reminds me of something your mother would always tell me when upset about my behavior: “it would be different if you were stupid! But that’s not the case, Te’Keya; you have very good understanding, little girl!”

Mother, you have a naturally high level of intellect (which I praise God for seeing fit to bless me with this trait of yours). You are capable of much more than you’re offering.

Your sister is breaking her back and her membranes, working long shifts with barely any days off, taking care of YOUR mother, basically by herself. Is there a reason you haven’t contributed to your own mother’s well-being?! (Yet you expect me to take care of you, as my mother, when you don’t do a thing for yours?!). Please, tell me if there’s something I don’t know.. I know everything else, ain’t nothing too heavy at this point.

For over a year, I’ve offered to arrange transportation for you to go to Atlanta for a week or two, here and there, to tag in on my Granny’s affairs (making sure she eats, getting her her medication, providing company, just being there!!) and you’ve yet to hop in with a helping hand. Save any excuses about this thing and that thing that you need to get done because you could’ve BEEN gotten them done; and, the same way they ain’t been done in Louisiana, they can be ain’t done in Georgia. I need you to do better.. I’ve always needed you to do better (I’ve always wished my love was enough for you to do better).. I need you to do better now, more than ever, with my Granny’s health on the decline.

I need you. I love you. I believe in you.

Love,
Te’Keya Krystal

I spent 5 hours of my Friday evening writing cards to mail out to people for birthdays, a “thinking of you”, and of course, Mother’s Day. My mother’s card was the last one I wrote. (You can actually see the stack of sealed envelopes, ready for mailing, in the background of the picture of me holding up the closed card.)

Maybe my subconscious hasn’t allowed me to seal my mother’s card yet, as I type this.

Though I’ve been to her current residence a couple of times, I don’t know the written address by heart. I texted her asking for her mailing address and closed my phone as I continued to work on my cards to mail out. When I was finished, I awakened my device from its do-not-disturb mode to be greeted by a text from my mother asking for me to send her some utility bill money.

Damn.

My lids dropped as if gravity had suddenly intensified, and a few water droplets escaped from my eyes.

I looked towards my checkbook; then looked away. I looked towards the cash on my dresser; then looked away.