Missing Wheezy

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Today would have been my grandmother’s birthday…she was the one who actually called me SAM and we called her Wheezer…she was a smoker, cantankerous and had the biggest smile for most everyone. She was my Dad’s mom and had a rough go of it being a single mom.

She always made me feel very important to her and there weren’t and haven’t been a lot of people that have done that for me. In her declining years, it broke my heart when she couldn’t remember my name, and her memories started to fade. I struggled with it a lot. Much like I do now, since my Dad is showing these signs. I swallow it a lot easier than I did then, I suppose age will do that to you. I suppose the fact that my Dad hasn’t always been all that nice to me is part of it too.

When I was a teenager and wanted to run away to live with him, to feel some sense of a normal life – he told me no. That there was no room for me. You can’t imagine how badly that hurt me. After knowing that he’d signed his rights away when I was 8, much to the prodding of my mother – I know – and then refusing to give me some semblance of normalcy when my mom went to the looney bin for the third time in my life. I can’t even pretend I’ve ever gotten over that. Don’t get me wrong…I do love my Dad, there have also been a handful of times I’ve asked him for help and he DID, and was my savior in those instances. I do believe at least, that he has always meant well..

Addendum: In rereading this post, when I ended it, there were several thoughts in my head, bringing me to tears and I couldn’t bear to write more at the time. I want to add that I feel that I am most like my grandmothers, as both of my parents were bent on control and control by fear. I believe that Wheezy, my Dad’s mom, knew the circumstances in my life very well and while we never discussed them, I think she inherently knew that I needed her softness, her humor and the strength she hid in her humor. My grandma was a tough lady, and I knew more about that strength after she passed than I ever recognized while she was alive. Sad for me, but I’ve always said that it’s better to see truth later than never. I comicly say that I am a self-improvement junkie – I read mountains of blog posts, articles, etc. on self improvement and the most helpful thing I’ve ever read was “This is It” by Augusten Burroughs. It was a powerful novel and brought me to weeping several times. But they were healing tears and I will no doubt read it countless more times as life is a series of comedy and tragedies that we have to live through.

You don’t struggle with this alone.


2 thoughts on “Missing Wheezy

  1. This blog touched my heart deeply. My mom is at end-stage. She has gone downhill very fast. Hard to believe she is dying. She was a terrible mother, a hurtful mother and a pathological liar. It still doesn’t take away my sadness knowing I will lose her at any moment. Our last viable conversation was, of course, an argument, and of course over her needing more money. Two days later, she was unable to form a sentence, now she is unresponsive. She will lose her earthly life any moment now. I honestly pray for her to have peace even though a part of me still hurts over her abusive treatment. I, too, love my mom and can give thanks for her life. I think it will always be hard to balance hurt and anger, but I do know it is how you deal with those deep emotions that make or break you. Thank you, Sabrina for such a beautiful blog.

    • There’s nothing easy about losing anyone, even a terrible parent. I hope someday I’ll find more peace with my childhood, though I don’t suspect it’ll be soon. Losing both of my grandmothers – the two that gave me respite most in this world as a child, I liken to losing parents, but how would I know? I love my mom in the sense that she gave me life, but as a model, as a friend, as a mentor, she fell short and I don’t know what part that will play in my life when we get to the days you’re in. My thoughts are with you, as I know you struggle with loss of more than mother, it’s a loss of any possibility that Mother, might one day embody what it’s supposed to.

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