earthly parents, imperfectly perfect

I don't think we ever outgrow the need for parents. I saw my mom on Friday after not having seen her since well before Christmas. My mother is a recovering drug(meth)/alcohol addict. She's been clean and sober for about 4 years I think, yet she remains at a standstill in her recovery and at this point has no job, no phone, no car, and barely has not much more than what I call a lean-to for a house. I have no way of getting ahold of her. When I feel really alone in a tough situation, like I have recently with my extended family (her siblings), I get an overwhelming yearning for my mom. I'm 30 years old and in times like that I suddenly regress to feeling like a little kid who wants my mommy.

During the last 8 years or so since she began drinking and using and then during and after treatment, she has been a far-removed figure in my life. Not always by my choosing...she distanced herself when she was using and now does the same when she thinks I disapprove of her or feels that she is not worthy to be in my life. At other times during these years, I have had to distance myself and exhibit "tough love" when she wasn't holding true to her promises or I just had to distance myself in my heart for self-protection. I tried to not love her and not care and just tell myself, "that's just the way it is and I don't need her. I'm fine." But I'm not.


I think no matter how old we get we still need that nurturing from a parent. Maybe I feel that desire more than most because I lived without feeling that I had any parents for most of my life. My mom married my dad when I was two and he was my "real" dad, not having ever known my biological "sperm donor". However, he began huffing and then drinking around the time I was nine or so and then the summer I was to turn 11, he left. He left me, my little seven and a half-year-old brother and my pregnant mom. He knew his addiction was stronger than his desire to be a husband and father. I so wanted my dad to come back for years. I prayed and prayed and dreamed of him returning, picking me up and swinging me around having had missed me so much.

After that I, at the age of 11, became my mom's "husband". I was her coach in her childbirth classes. I was my mom's emotional support for dealing with losing a husband and having three children to raise on her own. I held a mighty weight on small shoulders. I didn't know it at the time, but my mother had undiagnosed mental disorders and I think I gradually became the "mom" to my mom. As she became more and more irresponsible, I tried my best to take it on, though in my teen years I failed miserably at that. I think I wanted to have a childhood that I missed early on, with no responsibilities (which had it's own consequences to accompany that "freedom").

My mother didn't teach me how to be a mom, but something that has always stuck that she modeled was her having a quiet time with the Lord. In my pre-adolescent years, she did that faithfully every morning. That's something I am still trying to emulate now. I also know now, that God has always been my heavenly parent, but that "freedom" kept me from seeing it. It took me until very recently to call God "Father" in my prayer. Until one day just a few weeks ago, I would try to say it, but I couldn't really choke it out. I think I have a peace about the earthly father I had, him having passed away this last summer. I also can love my mom freely for who she is right this moment. Friday, after I took my Grandma to the dentist, I turned right instead of left. I just needed a mom right then. I knocked on the door and when she opened it, it was so good to see her, messed up hair, missing teeth and all. I hugged her when we were leaving and said, "I just really wanted to see you."