my mother, myself

on friday i picked up my mom, who had just announced that she was leaving her life in ecuador to come live the american dream. we have a history so i said that was great, but i could not help her. she has other kids, other family. full of hope however, i decided to have stay with me instead of my sisters (they had guests staying with them) until sunday morning wheni had to go to an event.
full of hope and wine i drove to the airport to find a woman in need of affection, a mental health professional and some tough love. we held. i offered my help on the condition she tell the truth. SHE SAID SHE WOULD. unfortunatley her disease lied for her, from the first syllable.
on her physical appearance, i dont recall much, all i could see were bruises, the remnants of a black eye, maybe "clumsiness" marks on her legs. i could not look closely as my head would blow and my heart would break.
i had my weekend planned with her. but i've never said planning was my forte. made baked chicken (excellent), pizza for dinner. disaster for breakfast. sunday she lost it. she cant be around us unless we can offer her love via money or buying things, buying her love. her parents did it, my father did it, now she expects it from us, her children. she cant love you unless you have something tangible in return, a cell fone, a small beauty sample, cash. its all the same.
LOVE=THINGS to her, sometimes favors. any other love, she cannot comprehend, she doesnt have the tools, my old shrink would say. i say spoiled brat. wah wah lollipop syndrome. shut her mouth with something. her attention span isnt what it used to be, and her grandkids werent enough. i'm broke, emotionally and financially bankrup, so she has no use for me.
she didnt want me. she wanted to use me. two diffrent things.
she broke things, threw cell fones. my own private naomi campbell. and just like naomi she blammed everyone but herself. blah blah. typical addict behavior. the police were rung (a first for me) and like white trash it all went down on my porch. she left and that was it. just a lot of broken glass and pride to sweep off the ground.
i was called many names including pig, and was wished the worse wishes anyone ever wants to hear. my mother wishes me the worse. aint that something. well i got the worse mom, so i guess bejezus heard her.
and in a cloud of chaos she left. i stood up for myself, for my kids and she's gone. i wish i could say i was liberated, but my shackles are only stronger now. but i set some boundaries. I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER. nothing sadder that parenting your parents cause it comes with the mourning of the dead parent. and right now i'm mourning the loss. the loss of my family, the loss of my parents and the loss of my mother.
of my family all i have is the bag of bones, which one day i will ash on top the remains of canudos. until then, who knows. like i said im in mourning.