Confusion Ensues

It's no secret that November 22 will mark yet another year since my mother passed away. And each year, I am met with such unpredictability as to how my mood will swing in addition to how it will affect those in my family.

This year, I am a little more melancholy and missing my mother even more than before. However, I can see why given that I'm preparing for my wedding in June, my brother and his wife are expecting a baby girl in January . . . a lot of family things going on, things that my mother should be witnessing but isn't.

What leaves me at a loss for words and feeling even more confused and melancholy is the way my father reacted when my other half and I invited him to stay for Thanksgiving. He says that he'd rather stay where he is and not travel. He argues that he doesn't like having to clear a potential visit with us before making arrangements (clearly not thinking about the fact that both my other half and I work and have other things going on that a visit from anyone would require discussion in advance). He takes statements I've made and either blows them out of proportion or twists them around to sound like something he can be upset about. Then he proceeds to manipulate me by saying whatever he chooses to say to elicit guilt and unrest on my end. And as much as I say it doesn't bother me, I won't let him get to me . . . it does bother me, he does get to me. My brother says cut our father some slack . . . he's old and doesn't think straight or clearly at times. I agree with his statement, however I know just how much my father crosses the line and disrespects my boundaries. Basically, he acts as though it is completely inappropriate for me to have any boundaries. At. All. What leaves me more melancholy is the fact that my father will not put his own discomfort or imagined grudge aside for Thanksgiving. In the years following my mother's death, my father and I have always been together on Thanksgiving. I feel abandoned, cast aside.

Just when I feel like the three of us are moving ahead, it's as though we move farther apart. It's as though we no longer know how to function as a family without my mother. It's just anger and many unspoken words.

What's in a name

Ma.
Mommy.
Momma.
Mom.
Mother.

So many ways in which we address our mother. Clearly, I have not used any of those titles since September 11, 2000.

Earlier in my present relationship, the choices were pretty simple as to how I would address my other half's parents - Mr and Mrs or first names. I still hesitated with that because his parents and I never really had a conversation about how I would address them. I'll never know whether it just didn't bother them or they didn't find the need to bring it up in conversation, but I don't recall ever hearing about the fact that I didn't call them anything. In fact, it was my other half who would tease me every now and then about the fact that I wasn't really calling them anything.

So now, for just shy of six months, I've been struggling with how to address my other half's folks. My other half has brought it up more than once, his mother has jokingly brought it up ("You have to call me something!?") and his father and I have talked about it twice. I told my other half that I just don't know what I feel comfortable with. I laughed when his mother made her passing comment/joke. And with his father, I expressed a little about how I wasn't sure what to call them, and he said to just use what felt comfortable - first names, Mom/Dad, whatever.

It's understandable, to everyone, as to why I have difficulty with the use of a maternal address. I saw it as a betrayal to my mother to address someone else with a maternal address because she isn't here to give her opinion or thoughts. And, really, I just didn't know how to reconcile that in my mind. Also, I have never seen my mother address anyone other than her own mother with a maternal address. Then again, I never saw her interact with my father's stepmother. Ever.

I struggled with the paternal address, because, well, my father is still alive. I don't want to hurt his feelings or insult him by using a father-like term for someone else. So, you see . . . I was in quite a predicament.

But, then I thought about it and had a breakthrough this past weekend - Mom and Pop. When my mother was alive, I usually called her Ma. And Pop works because I've never addressed my father directly or indirectly as Pop. So, these two addresses are, in fact, unique to my other half's parents and for me as well. It doesn't insult my own parents and after trying it out this weekend, it feels natural. Pop definitely felt comfortable and lo and behold, when I used Mom, I wasn't struck by lightning or something overly-exaggerated that I thought would happen. And to see the reaction from both of them . . . I knew I made the right decision.

I am grateful and appreciative that my other half, his mother and father handled and approached the predicament I was in with humor, compassion and patience. And, to be honest, I don't think my mother would feel betrayed by my decision or the slightest bit dismayed. In fact, I know she would be smiling knowing how deliberate I was with my decision with regard to my other half's parents . . . a decision that may have been taken lighter were I not my mother's daughter.