I used to get into bed with my mother every morning, almost until she died, and talk about everything. She was my closest confidante always. I had no secrets from her.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I lived with my mother all my life until she died, and I don't really think I knew her, because I was always using her as my mother, if you know what I mean.
I talk to my kids about my mother's energy and how she would have loved them. I talk about how kind and polite my father was. So that they have some kind of remembrance that even though my parents died from their addictions and so that they know they were genuine in how they were.
My mother was my best friend and confidante.
All my life, I had this idea that if I could unravel the mystery that was my mother, then I could help save her. But it didn't really work. We were close, but she struggled with mental illness and alcoholism, and it was rough at times.
I spent the first 33 years of my life with secrets, and lots of them. I spent a great deal of energy worrying over what people thought and obscuring the things I was ashamed of... trying to appear what I thought was normal.
It was deeply interesting to observe my mother closely and to draw her. During those last months, she wasn't speaking much, if at all, and it was a way for me to be with her. It felt very natural.
Not to be weird, but I still have an ongoing relationship with my mom, even though she passed away, and I've been surprised at how much I've been able to convey to her. Now I sound like a total weirdo, but that's true.
My mother and I always had full adult communication.
My mom was the center of my support system, that place I always went to talk things through, whether I was feeling joy or fear. She was always there with a huge, open heart and the best advice.
I've always been very private, maybe because I discovered my mother, who is a wonderful lady, is very emotional.