   |  DOING HER BEST by Shannon Batts, MS, LMFT, LPC (relationshipgardening.weebly.com) My mother, fleeing sexual abuse and alcoholic parenting, got pregnant at 13 in the 1940s by a man old enough to be her father. Her first baby died at 9 months old. This was her back story of trauma from which more and more of it piled up till I arrived in the 1960s in my little baby superhero cape to attempt to save everyone from their misery till it nearly killed me. In my later teens and young adult years when I was very mad at my mother for being an obnoxious alcoholic with violent boyfriends, I realized that she was a baby that never got mothered-that her drinking really kept her infantile. How on Earth can an infantile, blotto, unmothered woman mother anyone else? Forgiveness replaced my anger when I answered this question you can ask yourself too, "What if your mother is doing or did the best she could, even when she leans toward narcissism?" All the anger melted away and I wrote her a letter while at college telling her I didn't expect her to mother me any longer. She didn't get enough for herself, how can I expect her to have any for me? I finally cared for myself better by also saying I could not have contact with her any longer till she sobered up. The poison of all the various facets of an alcoholic parent was just too much for me. I spent some years in therapy and support groups to heal from my lack of parenting. She refused to go for her own help, although I do remember driving her to a clinic myself when I was 16 after one of her many suicide attempts. She had a bit of a tantrum once we arrived and refused to go back. After that letting go of anger letter, I didn't speak to her in any way for 8 years. She didn't know where I was. I didn't know if she was dead from her annual suicide attempts, or drunk driving, or being killed by her violent husband. The odds on getting that call were high. This is where Other Mothers come in. I called them Real Mothers. Women of love and humor, of happy surprises, able to connect with each other and be there for each other. Women who took a stand against hurtful gossip, or tearing down other women, who showed concern without criticism through all life's growing up challenges-these were my new mothers. We showed up for each other. We mothered each other. We had fun with it. Chosen family really rocks! I send cards for Mother's day to the women I admire who make kick ass mothers whether they birthed children or not. I tell them they are the Real Mothers who bring love and caring into the world and how glad I am to have known them. The gift my mother gave me right now that many only dream of having from their parents-is the gift of getting sober which she did at age 59. Some say you can only get sober for yourself, but sobriety is a gift for your kids too. Actually some folks can get sober on a drunken New Year's Eve bet and that is how it went down for my mother. The other guy gave up after 2 days and my mother thought that was not enough of a competition. She planned to see how long she could go without drinking. Once she sobered up she realized her friends were all really obnoxious self-absorbed drunks, she quit her bartending job in a stormy fight standing up to an abusive male boss, and got the first job in her life that wasn't about serving drinks in one way or another. The woman has grown some guts (but had to sober up first). Mothering my own is my second chance. It is hard and it is relentless and some days I know why my mother preferred to be blotto. Thousands and thousands of hugs and kisses for my daughter, nurturing her growth and astounding creativity, being there for my girl even in all her fieriness-committing to an alcohol and drug free life-all these are a gift to my mother as well. It says the brokenness in our family stops here and we can end our misery and move forward creating our future with love. To be a better mother or as I have coached my child to call me "Good Enough Mom," instead of perfect, or awesome-is to give my mother a chance to be proud of me as well-for growing a nurturing mother in me without being destroyed by my own mother's brokenness. What if we are doing our best? |
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