As she lay dying, the old woman’s hazy thoughts drifted back to a time and place long ago…
War-torn Germany, 1944: They had been through five years of hell, thanks to a government they wanted no part of. Nightly blackouts, screaming bombs, near misses, demolished buildings, arrests at all hours… She had seen it all and was grateful to be alive, working as an apprentice chemist in a large laboratory.
Then came the letter: “Your services are required. Report to Berlin immediately”. To work for a regime she despised was unthinkable, so she fled by train to Switzerland. As the border loomed ahead, she spotted a cloud of black uniforms. The Gestapo!
Forced off the train at gunpoint, she and the other passengers were herded onto a bus. Next stop: a former mental hospital, now a prison, somewhere in southern Germany. She was locked away until the war ended, marking her 21st birthday in a jail cell. She hadn’t been brutalized, but it coloured her outlook on life.
After the war, 1946.
As she lay dying, the old woman’s hazy thoughts drifted to a pivotal event…
Germany, 1955: She had just given birth to a daughter, through excruciating pain. The baby surprised everyone by showing up a full month early. There had been no time to drive to the preferred hospital. Instead, the child was born at the ancient local facility and the mother injured in the process.
She should have had a caesarian but that didn’t happen. Subconsciously, she blamed her daughter and for decades, told anyone who would listen how giving birth had ripped her up inside and how she almost died.
Finally, her daughter had had enough. “I don’t want to hear that story again. Stop blaming me for all your problems!” The old woman was shocked by this. After all, wasn’t she the one who had suffered in agony? Little did she realize that her daughter’s emotional scars were equal to her own physical ones.
Germany, 1955
As she lay dying, the old woman’s hazy thoughts turned to a foreign country…
London, Canada, 1963: She had been here four years now, having joined her military husband in his homeland. It had been a difficult adjustment, but all she ever wanted was a picture-perfect family living a beautiful life. She was obsessed with taking photos, as evidence of this utopian existence. Everything had to be staged “just so”, with not a hair out of place.
She laboured intensely to perpetuate this image, cooking lavish meals in a finely decorated home, dressing her young daughter like a princess (fodder for the school bullies), even teaching her how to curtsy. She herself always appeared impeccably groomed and smiling, regardless of what was actually happening behind the scenes.
Nobody knew about the horrible fights, the nightmares, the tears. Her daughter was left to fend for herself during this strife. She should have given more thought to her child but was too wrapped up in her own drama.
Christmas 1963, London Ontario
As she lay dying the old woman’s hazy thoughts turned to a more pleasant time…
Germany, 1967: She was happy to be home again! It had been two years and life was more genteel. Spending weekends and holidays with relatives put everyone on their best behaviour. There was less turmoil. She was able to indulge her wanderlust, with daughter in tow.
These trips were good for them; she became less driven, more relaxed. Mother and daughter drew closer, but it was short-lived. Over time, the daughter rebelled, chafing at her mother’s rigid standards and expectations.
Vexed by her child’s insubordination, she sloughed her off for a year, to a boarding school in Switzerland. Eventually, they returned to Canada, along with the drama.
Spanish Sahara (now Western Sahara), March 1967
As she lay dying, the old woman’s hazy thoughts turned to another major life change…
The move to California came in 1974 after her legs had lost all circulation and she needed major surgery. Severe Raynaud’s disease and Canadian winters did not go well together! Her brother, who lived in Los Angeles, had suggested San Diego as a nice place to live.
Things were set in motion and when her husband retired from the army, they headed south. She tried to convince her daughter to come along, but the girl had married young (over her strenuous objections) and wouldn’t consider it.
They enjoyed the warmth and sunshine, but darkness prevailed behind closed doors. It was not until years later when her husband stopped drinking, that life became truly enjoyable, at least as much as she would let it be. Her perfectionist mindset never gave her peace.
Last visit with us before the big move, January 1974.
She and her daughter kept up a regular telephone correspondence, but she only came back once, while (temporarily) separated from her husband and needing a place to live. That visit lasted six months.
The daughter made several trips to California over the years. The first few days were always good, but eventually, the old animosities rose up and bitter words exchanged.
San Diego, 1994
When her husband died, she was already showing signs of Alzheimer’s and couldn’t handle anything. Her daughter wanted to bring her back to Canada, but she refused, citing the cold winters. “Why can’t you move down here?” The daughter had her own life, husband and business, but put them all on hold to find the best possible care for her mother.
At first, the old woman was miserable, calling every day to complain (without merit), but eventually, she learned to appreciate her caregivers and surroundings. When her daughter came for one last visit, the old woman acknowledged her efforts for the first time and even said those rare, magic words: “I love you”.
The old woman drew her last breath on Oct. 3, 2016, at 10:17 p.m. PDT She was 92.
Professional portrait at age 70.
In case you haven’t guessed already, this is about my mother. It’s not the typical warm and fuzzy portrayal, but it is honest, as I see it. Some people just aren’t cut out to be parents, and my mother was one of them. She had enough problems of her own. That said, she did contribute positives as well.
She taught me manners, grace and poise and expanded my world view through travel. My musical ear comes from her, as does my interest in arts and culture. This was a woman of many talents. Superb scratch cook and baker, decorator, seamstress, event planner, hostess, organizer, housekeeper, gardener.
She even became a fitness instructor for seniors when she was in her 60s and designed a line of workout wear. It hasn’t really sunk in yet that she’s gone. I’ll be heading to California soon to settle her affairs and am bracing for that onslaught of emotion.
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Dog Mom and (retired) Canine Innkeeper in suburban Toronto, Canada, known as The Doglady. Former corporate workaholic. Writer, photographer, digital creator. Animal lover, music fanatic, inveterate traveller. Eternal hippie/rockchick. History, literature and cinema buff. Hockey and soccer fan. Dedicated night owl. German/Canadian binational, multilingual. Let me entertain you!
90 thoughts on “🌹AN UNVARNISHED TRIBUTE FOR MOTHER’S DAY🌹 #CreativeWriting #Memoir”
What a heartfelt tribute to the complexities of motherhood! Your honesty about the challenges and joys of being a mom is so refreshing. It’s a reminder that while motherhood can be tough, it’s also filled with beautiful moments that make it all worthwhile. Thank you for sharing your journey; it really resonates with so many of us!
Welcome to The Den, Elsa! And thank you for those kind words. Your Medium link doesn’t lead me to your content, though, and I couldn’t find you by name on there. I’d love to read your work as well. Please do share that info.
Very touching and tragic too, difficult times.. your Mother was very beautiful and looking very young at the age of 70, the portrait is amazing good. I’ll be back in few days, have a great week Debbie!
I was lucky to have a loving and devoted mother, though my relationship with my father mirrors that of you and your mum. My dad left the family home when I was 24, leaving me to basically care for my mum emotionally, if not financially. We grew closer together as a result, and remained great friends until her death in 2012 when she was 87 years old. Mother’s Day is celebrated in March here, and I always post a tribute to my mum.
Best wishes, Pete.
You are fortunate to have had such a loving mother, Pete, and it’s wonderful you were able to take care of her. Too bad about your dad, but not many people come from a “perfect” family.
Thank you for your honesty and it must be difficult to write this because we all want a perfect parent. Believe me, a friend of mine posts how she has the most beautiful mom but she is lying because she told me how tough her mom was on her and still can be. We just want the beautiful mom like Donna Reed and not the Joan Crawford one. Usually we have a combo platter. I can see, I your young face, that you are not happy. The crystal glasses and beautiful set up of the table and you, tells me how different you are from your mom. You are the exact opposite as your mom seemed to like image. My mom was about image but in a different way. Actually image was a big thing in the Ortmann family. My Au;T was about things, my Uncle about being at THE best schools and neighbourhood, my mom, about how people viewed us and to appear perfect even though she knew she wasn’t. I can say, though, that my mom was great, overall. I was lucky even though she favoured my brother…typical in European and old Time thinking. I think she did love you but she did not understand you.
I wrote this as a catharsis, because all the loving platitudes being bandied about on Mother’s Day are a bit triggering for me. I yearned to have a perfect “Leave It To Beaver” family, but that didn’t happen. My mother was a combination of your aunt, mom and uncle, all rolled into one. She was a narcissist, who viewed me solely as a possession she could show off, and got angry when I didn’t cooperate. I’m glad your mother was otherwise loving and nurturing. Too bad she favoured your brother, but yes, that is typical old world thinking. Thanks for sharing your thoughts here, Birgit.
I have known you many years, Debbie and never knew this about your life. Not everyone has a nosey childhood, as you know firsthand. I’m sorry for what you endured, yet embrace you as you’ve become a beautiful person. I do agree, not everyone is cut out to be parents.
Thanks, Bren! 🙂 As I always say: “Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”. 😉 At least I could “rise above”, unlike some, who descend into destructive behaviours.
Wow Deb. I didn’t know we had the same mothers! Okay, not same, but same dramatics and shitty parenting, except your mother did some motherly things with you that mine didn’t. And we remained estranged when she died. Yes, not every mother is a good mother, and sadly, you and I got real ripped off of good mother/daughter relationships. Good for you for saying it. <3
Thank you, Deb. I think I may have mentioned it a time or two. 🙂 Your books about your mother struck a bunch of chords with me and I feel we are kindred spirits. 🌹 I’m sorry you and she remained estranged when she died. Mother’s Day and all the loving platitudes that go along with it is always a bit triggering for me. Maybe this will help someone else who feels the same way.
Knowing this story over the many times I have read it, God gave me one thought: It doesn’t have to end like this. Not the relationships, but how the scars set. We all get them from imperfect human parents- you, more than many. But, you go on, you recover, you take out the garbage and build new and good. Perhaps one day it will be time to reflect, not on the pain of the past, but the future you rose to. God always gives us the gift of that next day to do something new and better.
I have repeated the story a few times, and each time, it finds new readers. Must be a little monotonous for the regulars though, and I’m sorry about that. Thanks for reading it again! Writing about my dysfunctional family has been cathartic. The experience toughened me up for life’s ups and downs. No worries! As the song goes: “I Will Survive:. 🙂 I consider myself fortunate for overcoming my upbringing, while so many others fall apart.
Thanks, Eugi! 🙂 I’m glad you had a good relationship with your mother, at least. My father was an alcoholic, so that wasn’t pleasant either. As they say, “Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” 😉
Such a touching and honest piece about your mother, Debbie. You are able to look at it objectively now with the wisdom of age and distance, but it must have been very challenging to go through at times.
Thanks for sharing and being honest without sugar coating it. I, too, had a mother who wasn’t a June Cleaver type with plenty of demons from her difficult childhood being the oldest of nine in a poor family in Cape Breton. I like writing about my mom, too, and coming to terms with the less than perfect memories of having a mother like mine who was domineering, sometimes selfish and difficult, but also loving, funny and caring in her own way.
Thank you, Cathy! It sounds like we have had similar experiences growing up, and writing about them has been cathartic. Funny you should mention June Cleaver! Leave It To Beaver was my favourite show as a kid and I yearned to be part of a family like that!
Thank you so much, Sally! Writing about my dysfunctional childhood has been cathartic and hopefully, may even help others who have had similar life experiences.
It was a complicated but honest and beautiful tribute. Both you and your mother suffered. Life is complicated and telling it like it is helps others heal as well.
Thank you for this very honest post. These glimpses into other people’s experiences are important. They help us to come to terms with our own experiences in a world that is often glossed over with greeting card fantasy. My dad passed away last September, also at 92 and much as I loved him, he had been a very complex man. I nursed him right to the end and when he became delirious, he was shouting out for his mum and dad with such anguish, I suddenly saw the confused little boy he’d always been. My own mum is now 91 and missing my dad dreadfully – it IS hard dealing with the fall out from their histories but I have come to realise, as parents, we all do the best we can with who we are at the time and it’s no ones fault if that best isn’t good enough. Thank you for this wonderful piece Debbie. By the way, I am hitting the like button but it’s just not working for me on all blogs – I have no idea why? Also, comment luv isn’t working for me either – it always used to so not sure what is going on.
I appreciate your comments, Gilly. You understood exactly what I was going for; to illustrate that “greeting card fantasy” (excellent phrase!) isn’t the reality for many of us. Your account of your father’s last days touched my heart! Although I couldn’t be with my mother at the end, her caregivers told me she was reliving her wartime horrors.
I’m sorry you had trouble with the LIKE button as well as the CommentLuv! 🙁 Not sure why, either. Coincidentally, the CommentLuv on your site didn’t work for me, either. Maybe I have a plug-in that isn’t playing nice with it? That’s always aggravating! So hard to determine the cause. Sometimes these things clear up on their own. Here’s hoping!
Your childhood wasn’t purrfect but despite your mother’s contrary ways I know she loved you. As you said, not everyone is cut out to be a parent and when one has issues then it’s best to not drag another purrson into the scene until things are settled. I’m convinced that some women think having a baby will fix the immediate whatever in her life but it doesn’t, it makes things worse. I’m not saying it can’t happen but it often does the opposite and the one to suffer is the child. I’m glad you can see the gifts your mother gave you and you’re appreciative of those things. I know Mother’s Day is a bittersweet one for you but hopefully, you can reflect on the sweet moments you two shared. Thanks for sharing your story with us. You’re a brave woman to do it!
Hi Cathy; My mother told me (many times over) that I was an accident and I don’t doubt that. 😛 Yes, some people hope that a baby will save their marriage, but that wasn’t the case here. It’s true, the child always suffers, regardless. At least I was able to overcome my upbringing and I’m hoping the story may be helpful to others in that regard. Writing this was difficult, but also cathartic. An unburdening, of sorts. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts! 🙂
Hi Debbie – very moving to read … the ups and downs … family life has its challenges. I understand more and would have liked to have found out more from my mother – but never did for various reasons … I know enough. I’m glad the end words were … I love you … so poignant – have a peaceful Mother’s Day – Hilary
Thank you, Hilary. 🙂 It is difficult to know what motivates some mothers to behave as they do. I’ve learned a few more things as well, and they explain a lot. Wishing you a lovely Sunday. Is it also Mother’s Day in England?
Hi Debbie – we follow the religious calendar … so our Mothering Sunday falls on the fourth Sunday in Lent … I mentioned it here … http://positiveletters.blogspot.com/2019/03/we-are-world-blogfest-23-mothering.html . We are in thick mist (well on the coast we are – due south of London) … but we are meant to be getting a sunny and hot weekend … then back to some more not so good weather! We learn so much as we get older … have a happy rest of the week and weekend – cheers Hilary.
I’m so sorry, Chris! 🙁 Sincere condolences to you and your family. Scrappy had a great life with you and we all enjoyed the photos of your explorations. R.I.P. dear boy. ♥
Hugs, Debbie! I am at a loss for words. I know, not every mother is the same, and I know there are many who do not receive a mother’s love that the others do. My heart cries for every such child and I wish I could share my mum with them.
Thank you, Shilpa. ♥ I felt compelled to share this again, mostly to increase awareness that not all mothers are loving and nurturing. I’m sure there are many people in similar situations and they should know they’re not alone. I survived and thrived and they can too! 🙂
This was both difficult to read and created a wave of sympathy for your situation. It couldn’t have been easy growing up in that situation and coming out strong, independent and as wonderful as you are, Debbie. More power to you. As for your mom, may she rest in peace, free from all the pain that she felt through her life.
Thank you, Shailaja. 🙂 I felt compelled to re-publish this, not as a ploy to gain sympathy but to increase awareness that not all mothers are nurturing. I’m sure there are many children and adults out there who have had similar experiences, and they should know they’re not alone. I credit my strength and independence to those dysfunctional years, growing up an only child, having to fend for myself. So you see, some good did come of it. 🙂 The physical distance between us all of my adult life (about 4100 km) was a good thing, as well.
Yes, my mother went through a lot of turmoil in her life, which, unfortunately, affected me in a big way as well. I’m glad you like the tribute, warts and all. 🙂 Have a good weekend.
I don’t know that I will ever write about my mother. I am learning more about her and her life before me as I do the family history. Just found out yesterday that her stories of someone marrying into a Mafia family were true! But, there are some very painful memories that I’ve learned to deal with and I just prefer to keep them buried.
Hi Denise; We all have different coping mechanisms for painful memories. I find writing about them cathartic, but it was still difficult. Some new and disturbing information about my mother and grandmother also came to light recently, so I can imagine how you feel, too. Thanks for coming by!
Coming of age during wartime Germany would jade you for this world. Anger eats you from within. I had an uncle that was bitter about so many things that he could never see how much he had which was a lot.
Yes, my mother had a horrible time in the war and was experiencing flashbacks before she died. In life, she was forever finding fault and never satisfied. Thanks for reading this, Ann and sharing your thoughts.
DEBBIE, this post reminded me of the heart-breakingly great movie ‘ORDINARY PEOPLE’ with Mary Tyler Moore and Timothy Hutton. Ever see it?
That line “I almost died giving birth to you” has actually become a cliché used now in satire and comedies. Wow! I guess I never thought of anybody “REALLY” saying it.
This was/is a very interesting and well-written series. I’ll follow along as it proceeds.
Oh yes, it’s more than a mere cliché. 😛 I’m glad you’re enjoying the series and also that you like my writing style. That’s music to any writer’s ears. 🙂
Very touching, Debbie. I knew it was you mom because of the resemblance and, of course, the tone of the piece. Some of us don’t get those warm and fuzzy moms who cuddle us and greet us after school and wrap us with maternal love. So glad she parted with you on a loving note. It’s never too late to tell someone you love them.
Thank you, C. Lee. It’s true – not every mother is warm and loving, but we make the best of things as they are. My mother’s declaration was a pleasant surprise. 🙂
“Germany, 1955: She had just given birth to a daughter, through excruciating pain. The baby surprised everyone by showing up a full month early. There had been no time to drive to the preferred hospital. Instead, the child was born at the ancient local facility and the mother injured in the process. She should have had a caesarian but that didn’t happen. Subconsciously, she blamed her daughter and for decades, told anyone who would listen how giving birth had ripped her up inside and how she almost died. Finally, her daughter had had enough. “I don’t want to hear that story again. Stop blaming me for all your problems!” The old woman was shocked by this. After all, wasn’t she the one who had suffered in agony? Little did she realize that her daughter’s emotional scars were equal to her own physical ones.” This moved me deeply and, I admit, to tears … because to the similarity to my own story … Love, cat.
Welcome to the Den, Cat. It seems we have a few things in common. 🙂 I’m touched that you were moved by my words and saddened that you suffered a similar experience. No child should ever feel unwanted. Thank you for the visit.
What struck me the most in this piece was the refreshing honesty. It can be hard to speak of all the pain you’ve been through as a child and yet look back with gratitude at what made your mom who she was. Finding the reasons for her behavior and letting go the angst, that doesn’t come easily. So well written, Debbie. May she rest in peace.
Thank you, Shailaja. I prefer to tell things as they are without the sugar coating. Yes, my mother had many issues, but regardless how difficult my childhood was, it made me who I am today – a strong, “take no shit” person. 🙂 I hope my mother is finally at peace. That’s something she never achieved in life.
Wow…this was raw – thank you for sharing this with us. I can imagine how hard it was to share this and I am truly sorry for your loss.
Although I haven’t lost my mom yet, I know that time is coming. With me spending every day with her, I see it but I also see she still wants to fight. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I might not have years but months with my mom and I hope it I can hang on to that when the time comes.
Beautifully written Debbie! My thoughts and prayers are with you.
Thank you, Cori. ♥ This seemed to write itself, in places. It was cathartic, but I hesitated to publish something so personal. I read about your Mom’s health problems and wish her (and you) all the best. My mother was seriously ill and also had Alzheimer’s, so I was prepared. She had a good, long run. 🙂
Sorry for your loss. I liked your honest write up about your mother. And I agree that some people are not cut out to be parents. But whatever be the case, losing a parent is always difficult. I lost my dad when I was a 9 year old and it took me a long time to accept it.
Hi Deb, I am so sorry for your lost. The death of a parent no matter the age is not an easy thing. Even if the relationship was not close or if it was, it still is your parent. I remember an uncle of mine at my grandmother’s wake saying, “you can replace a wife but not a mother” – sad but yet really true! I lost mine 2 1/2 years ago and it really changed my life. Mine too was never to say the I love you words til she knew she was dying.
The whole thing made me want to live more each day and that life is really short.
Good luck with the rest of the process Debbie. I think your mom did give you strength your whole life and it will guide and help you through.
Thank you so much, Lisa. I remember when your Mom passed away. I hope the pain of grief has dulled a little, over time. The fact that my mother and I lived 2600 miles apart for 42 years makes it a little less jarring at this point. I’m sure it’ll affect me more when I get to California in a couple of weeks.
It comes and goes Deb. I hope your trip goes smoothly and you don’t get jarred by it. I had a bad day on the 5th anniversary of her death but doing okay now. 🙂
Oh, Debbie, I’m so sorry for your loss. I know how it feels to lose parents, the regrets, what-ifs, should’ves. I am glad, though, that you had your closure when she said those magic words. I know you loved her, too, as this beautiful piece is testimony to that…My condolences, Debbie…
That was powerful stuff. Never dreamed it was real life until just before the end. I really don’t know what to say from there… except that nobody ever has those perfect lives, and I’ve found the harder you try to create it, the farther you go from it.
This is one of the most candid and poignant, superbly written memorials I’ve ever read. I knew at once it was about your mom and I think that’s why my heart ached even as it soared for your strength and clarity of mind to overlook the imperfections and love her anyway. Not everyone can do that, bless your heart.
Thank you, Diedre. I’ve always been candid by nature. My mother and I had a difficult relationship, but she gave me life and I have to love her for that, at the very least.
I am deeply moved by this rendering of your mother’s life. I admire her stamina, yet saddened that she often could not hide her pain and instead drew you into it. Your ability to realize you needed distance in order to lead your own healthy life, had to make you strong, but also had to give you pause. I wish peace for your mother. I wish peace for you and yours.
Welcome to The Den, Beth. Yes, I believe the distance helped a lot. When you grow up in a dysfunctional family, your only recourse is to become stronger, otherwise, you’ll be even more screwed up.
Beautiful story, and a great example of how many women in that generation lived with a totally different mindset! Perfectionism is still glorified in this society, thankfully there is a spiritual movement happening and women are awakening to the fact that we must pay attention to our values and priorities and not worry about other’s expectations.
Welcome to The Den, Tina. It’s sad when outward appearance is more important than reality. Yes, women of that generation were typically raised to be “perfect” homemakers, etc. Thanks for dropping in!
My late best friend’s parents were both German Holocaust survivors. Sadly, in her declining years my friend’s Mom drifted more and more into the “Hitler years”. This caused my friend tremendous emotional pain. My parents have been gone many years. I suspect that if my Mom had lived into my teen years, our relationship would have been complicated. I am sorry for your loss.
Thank you, Alana. I’m sorry your friend had such a difficult time with her mother. My mother went through a period of dwelling on the war and wanted to document her experiences, but then changed her mind. Too bad! It would have been a great book (that was the original plan). How sad to lose your own mother at such a young age! Sounds like you didn’t have the best relationship, either.
Love can be a difficult emotion for some people to show. And you’re right–some people may not be cut out to be parents or maybe they just never learn the art of parenting well.
Yes, my mother was not one to show affection. It was only recently that I came to realize what was going on all those years; she was a typical narcissist. On the other hand, she allowed me to experience the joys of travel and gave me a sense of style. I’ll always be grateful for those things.
This was fabulous and beautifully written Debbie. It’s great that you can pull all the positives that she imparted to you over the course of her life and I’m so glad she said those all-important words, “I love you.” That had to hit you hard when she said it and it must have been so welcoming. Some people just don’t know how to show affection but I’m so happy that she found her way to tell you that she did indeed love you and appreciated all you had done for her.
I’m sure the coming months will be a rollercoaster of emotions. Know that I’m thinking of you.
All the best,
XOXO
Thank you, Michele. I hesitated posting something so personal but writing it was definitely cathartic. My mother surprised me with that revelation, as her usual comments involved criticism. It was definitely nice to hear! 🙂 Yes, I’m dreading the trip to California (leaving Oct. 30), but it will be the last chapter of a long saga.
My thoughts are with you and your Mom as well, during your own difficult time of mourning. ♥
I assumed it was about your mom from the title which immediately drew me in. It is so difficult to understand how a woman who gives birth to a child does not automatically have a mother’s heart. But I know it happens….often. You did an awesome job sharing this story and it certainly made me appreciate you more. I will be thinking of you when you make that trip down South to close that chapter of your life.
Thank you so much, Carol. Who knows what my mother’s early life was like and then to suffer the horrors of war? That’s bound to have a profound effect on a person. My mother was a textbook narcissist and while she caused me much grief, she also introduced me to travel and culture and gave me insight into human behaviour.
Debbie, I am truly sorry for your loss. How brave of you to put it all in writing. I did not have a happy childhood with my own mother and rarely talk about it let alone put it into words. Take care with what awaits you in California.
Thank you, Denise. I’m sorry you had mother issues as well. There was an intense internal debate going on about whether or not to publish this. Writing it was cathartic, but to share something so personal made me hesitate. Maybe it can help someone else in a similar situation feel less alone?
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90 thoughts on “🌹AN UNVARNISHED TRIBUTE FOR MOTHER’S DAY🌹 #CreativeWriting #Memoir”
What a heartfelt tribute to the complexities of motherhood! Your honesty about the challenges and joys of being a mom is so refreshing. It’s a reminder that while motherhood can be tough, it’s also filled with beautiful moments that make it all worthwhile. Thank you for sharing your journey; it really resonates with so many of us!
Welcome to The Den, Elsa! And thank you for those kind words. Your Medium link doesn’t lead me to your content, though, and I couldn’t find you by name on there. I’d love to read your work as well. Please do share that info.
Very touching and tragic too, difficult times.. your Mother was very beautiful and looking very young at the age of 70, the portrait is amazing good. I’ll be back in few days, have a great week Debbie!
Thank you for your continued support, Jean! I hope you are having a good summer. 🙂
I was lucky to have a loving and devoted mother, though my relationship with my father mirrors that of you and your mum. My dad left the family home when I was 24, leaving me to basically care for my mum emotionally, if not financially. We grew closer together as a result, and remained great friends until her death in 2012 when she was 87 years old. Mother’s Day is celebrated in March here, and I always post a tribute to my mum.
Best wishes, Pete.
You are fortunate to have had such a loving mother, Pete, and it’s wonderful you were able to take care of her. Too bad about your dad, but not many people come from a “perfect” family.
Thank you for your honesty and it must be difficult to write this because we all want a perfect parent. Believe me, a friend of mine posts how she has the most beautiful mom but she is lying because she told me how tough her mom was on her and still can be. We just want the beautiful mom like Donna Reed and not the Joan Crawford one. Usually we have a combo platter. I can see, I your young face, that you are not happy. The crystal glasses and beautiful set up of the table and you, tells me how different you are from your mom. You are the exact opposite as your mom seemed to like image. My mom was about image but in a different way. Actually image was a big thing in the Ortmann family. My Au;T was about things, my Uncle about being at THE best schools and neighbourhood, my mom, about how people viewed us and to appear perfect even though she knew she wasn’t. I can say, though, that my mom was great, overall. I was lucky even though she favoured my brother…typical in European and old Time thinking. I think she did love you but she did not understand you.
I wrote this as a catharsis, because all the loving platitudes being bandied about on Mother’s Day are a bit triggering for me. I yearned to have a perfect “Leave It To Beaver” family, but that didn’t happen. My mother was a combination of your aunt, mom and uncle, all rolled into one. She was a narcissist, who viewed me solely as a possession she could show off, and got angry when I didn’t cooperate. I’m glad your mother was otherwise loving and nurturing. Too bad she favoured your brother, but yes, that is typical old world thinking. Thanks for sharing your thoughts here, Birgit.
I have known you many years, Debbie and never knew this about your life. Not everyone has a nosey childhood, as you know firsthand. I’m sorry for what you endured, yet embrace you as you’ve become a beautiful person. I do agree, not everyone is cut out to be parents.
Thanks, Bren! 🙂 As I always say: “Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”. 😉 At least I could “rise above”, unlike some, who descend into destructive behaviours.
Wow Deb. I didn’t know we had the same mothers! Okay, not same, but same dramatics and shitty parenting, except your mother did some motherly things with you that mine didn’t. And we remained estranged when she died. Yes, not every mother is a good mother, and sadly, you and I got real ripped off of good mother/daughter relationships. Good for you for saying it. <3
Thank you, Deb. I think I may have mentioned it a time or two. 🙂 Your books about your mother struck a bunch of chords with me and I feel we are kindred spirits. 🌹 I’m sorry you and she remained estranged when she died. Mother’s Day and all the loving platitudes that go along with it is always a bit triggering for me. Maybe this will help someone else who feels the same way.
Thank you Deb. I know all about the triggers. Good to know we aren’t alone, and are kindreds! <3
Knowing this story over the many times I have read it, God gave me one thought: It doesn’t have to end like this. Not the relationships, but how the scars set. We all get them from imperfect human parents- you, more than many. But, you go on, you recover, you take out the garbage and build new and good. Perhaps one day it will be time to reflect, not on the pain of the past, but the future you rose to. God always gives us the gift of that next day to do something new and better.
I have repeated the story a few times, and each time, it finds new readers. Must be a little monotonous for the regulars though, and I’m sorry about that. Thanks for reading it again! Writing about my dysfunctional family has been cathartic. The experience toughened me up for life’s ups and downs. No worries! As the song goes: “I Will Survive:. 🙂 I consider myself fortunate for overcoming my upbringing, while so many others fall apart.
What a wonderful and honest post, Debbie. My mother was my best friend but my father was cold and aloof. I guess that is the balance between parents
Thanks, Eugi! 🙂 I’m glad you had a good relationship with your mother, at least. My father was an alcoholic, so that wasn’t pleasant either. As they say, “Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” 😉
Yep, I agree with your quote, Debbie!
☆¸.•°”˜˜”°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°”˜˜”°•.¸☆
╔╗╔╦══╦═╦═╦╗╔╗ ★ ★ ★
║╚╝║══║═║═║╚╝║ ☆¸.•°”˜˜”°•.¸☆
║╔╗║╔╗║╔╣╔╩╗╔╝ ★ MOTHER’S DAY ☆
╚╝╚╩╝╚╩╝╚╝═╚╝ ♥￥☆★☆★☆￥♥ ★☆ ♥♥♥
I’m a dog mom, so that works. 😀 Thanks, Sandee! But, what did you think of the story?
Such a touching and honest piece about your mother, Debbie. You are able to look at it objectively now with the wisdom of age and distance, but it must have been very challenging to go through at times.
Thanks for sharing and being honest without sugar coating it. I, too, had a mother who wasn’t a June Cleaver type with plenty of demons from her difficult childhood being the oldest of nine in a poor family in Cape Breton. I like writing about my mom, too, and coming to terms with the less than perfect memories of having a mother like mine who was domineering, sometimes selfish and difficult, but also loving, funny and caring in her own way.
Thank you, Cathy! It sounds like we have had similar experiences growing up, and writing about them has been cathartic. Funny you should mention June Cleaver! Leave It To Beaver was my favourite show as a kid and I yearned to be part of a family like that!
I do feel for you Debbie for more reasons than you can imagine. Thank you for sharing this honest and poignant post. ♥
Thank you so much, Sally! Writing about my dysfunctional childhood has been cathartic and hopefully, may even help others who have had similar life experiences.
It was a complicated but honest and beautiful tribute. Both you and your mother suffered. Life is complicated and telling it like it is helps others heal as well.
Thank you, Thomas! I am hoping this will help others in similar circumstances. Writing about my dysfunctional family has been personally cathartic.
Thank you for this very honest post. These glimpses into other people’s experiences are important. They help us to come to terms with our own experiences in a world that is often glossed over with greeting card fantasy. My dad passed away last September, also at 92 and much as I loved him, he had been a very complex man. I nursed him right to the end and when he became delirious, he was shouting out for his mum and dad with such anguish, I suddenly saw the confused little boy he’d always been. My own mum is now 91 and missing my dad dreadfully – it IS hard dealing with the fall out from their histories but I have come to realise, as parents, we all do the best we can with who we are at the time and it’s no ones fault if that best isn’t good enough. Thank you for this wonderful piece Debbie. By the way, I am hitting the like button but it’s just not working for me on all blogs – I have no idea why? Also, comment luv isn’t working for me either – it always used to so not sure what is going on.
I appreciate your comments, Gilly. You understood exactly what I was going for; to illustrate that “greeting card fantasy” (excellent phrase!) isn’t the reality for many of us. Your account of your father’s last days touched my heart! Although I couldn’t be with my mother at the end, her caregivers told me she was reliving her wartime horrors.
I’m sorry you had trouble with the LIKE button as well as the CommentLuv! 🙁 Not sure why, either. Coincidentally, the CommentLuv on your site didn’t work for me, either. Maybe I have a plug-in that isn’t playing nice with it? That’s always aggravating! So hard to determine the cause. Sometimes these things clear up on their own. Here’s hoping!
Thank you so much for reading my story!
Debbie,
Your childhood wasn’t purrfect but despite your mother’s contrary ways I know she loved you. As you said, not everyone is cut out to be a parent and when one has issues then it’s best to not drag another purrson into the scene until things are settled. I’m convinced that some women think having a baby will fix the immediate whatever in her life but it doesn’t, it makes things worse. I’m not saying it can’t happen but it often does the opposite and the one to suffer is the child. I’m glad you can see the gifts your mother gave you and you’re appreciative of those things. I know Mother’s Day is a bittersweet one for you but hopefully, you can reflect on the sweet moments you two shared. Thanks for sharing your story with us. You’re a brave woman to do it!
Hi Cathy; My mother told me (many times over) that I was an accident and I don’t doubt that. 😛 Yes, some people hope that a baby will save their marriage, but that wasn’t the case here. It’s true, the child always suffers, regardless. At least I was able to overcome my upbringing and I’m hoping the story may be helpful to others in that regard. Writing this was difficult, but also cathartic. An unburdening, of sorts. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts! 🙂
Hi Debbie – very moving to read … the ups and downs … family life has its challenges. I understand more and would have liked to have found out more from my mother – but never did for various reasons … I know enough. I’m glad the end words were … I love you … so poignant – have a peaceful Mother’s Day – Hilary
Thank you, Hilary. 🙂 It is difficult to know what motivates some mothers to behave as they do. I’ve learned a few more things as well, and they explain a lot. Wishing you a lovely Sunday. Is it also Mother’s Day in England?
Hi Debbie – we follow the religious calendar … so our Mothering Sunday falls on the fourth Sunday in Lent … I mentioned it here … http://positiveletters.blogspot.com/2019/03/we-are-world-blogfest-23-mothering.html . We are in thick mist (well on the coast we are – due south of London) … but we are meant to be getting a sunny and hot weekend … then back to some more not so good weather! We learn so much as we get older … have a happy rest of the week and weekend – cheers Hilary.
Yes… and unfortunately, Scrappy last night…
I’m so sorry, Chris! 🙁 Sincere condolences to you and your family. Scrappy had a great life with you and we all enjoyed the photos of your explorations. R.I.P. dear boy. ♥
Hugs, Debbie! I am at a loss for words. I know, not every mother is the same, and I know there are many who do not receive a mother’s love that the others do. My heart cries for every such child and I wish I could share my mum with them.
Thank you, Shilpa. ♥ I felt compelled to share this again, mostly to increase awareness that not all mothers are loving and nurturing. I’m sure there are many people in similar situations and they should know they’re not alone. I survived and thrived and they can too! 🙂
I can understand Debbie!
This was both difficult to read and created a wave of sympathy for your situation. It couldn’t have been easy growing up in that situation and coming out strong, independent and as wonderful as you are, Debbie. More power to you. As for your mom, may she rest in peace, free from all the pain that she felt through her life.
Thank you, Shailaja. 🙂 I felt compelled to re-publish this, not as a ploy to gain sympathy but to increase awareness that not all mothers are nurturing. I’m sure there are many children and adults out there who have had similar experiences, and they should know they’re not alone. I credit my strength and independence to those dysfunctional years, growing up an only child, having to fend for myself. So you see, some good did come of it. 🙂 The physical distance between us all of my adult life (about 4100 km) was a good thing, as well.
What a courageous and amazing woman your mother was, Debbie D. Your tribute to your mother is beautiful and most commendable. Thank you for sharing.
Yes, my mother went through a lot of turmoil in her life, which, unfortunately, affected me in a big way as well. I’m glad you like the tribute, warts and all. 🙂 Have a good weekend.
I am glad you posted this again… The stories are timeless.
There’s something about Mother’s Day that compels me to revisit this. 🙂 Thanks, Myke.
What a lovely tribute to your mother. Beautiful.
Have a fabulous day, weekend and Mother’s Day. ♥
I’m glad you liked it, Sandee, although it’s rather brutally honest. 🙂 Thanks for coming by! Have a good weekend.
I don’t know that I will ever write about my mother. I am learning more about her and her life before me as I do the family history. Just found out yesterday that her stories of someone marrying into a Mafia family were true! But, there are some very painful memories that I’ve learned to deal with and I just prefer to keep them buried.
Hi Denise; We all have different coping mechanisms for painful memories. I find writing about them cathartic, but it was still difficult. Some new and disturbing information about my mother and grandmother also came to light recently, so I can imagine how you feel, too. Thanks for coming by!
Coming of age during wartime Germany would jade you for this world. Anger eats you from within. I had an uncle that was bitter about so many things that he could never see how much he had which was a lot.
Yes, my mother had a horrible time in the war and was experiencing flashbacks before she died. In life, she was forever finding fault and never satisfied. Thanks for reading this, Ann and sharing your thoughts.
DEBBIE, this post reminded me of the heart-breakingly great movie ‘ORDINARY PEOPLE’ with Mary Tyler Moore and Timothy Hutton. Ever see it?
That line “I almost died giving birth to you” has actually become a cliché used now in satire and comedies. Wow! I guess I never thought of anybody “REALLY” saying it.
This was/is a very interesting and well-written series. I’ll follow along as it proceeds.
~ D-FensDogG
Check out my new blog @
(Link:] Stephen T. McCarthy Reviews…
Oh yes, it’s more than a mere cliché. 😛 I’m glad you’re enjoying the series and also that you like my writing style. That’s music to any writer’s ears. 🙂
Very touching, Debbie. I knew it was you mom because of the resemblance and, of course, the tone of the piece. Some of us don’t get those warm and fuzzy moms who cuddle us and greet us after school and wrap us with maternal love. So glad she parted with you on a loving note. It’s never too late to tell someone you love them.
Thank you, C. Lee. It’s true – not every mother is warm and loving, but we make the best of things as they are. My mother’s declaration was a pleasant surprise. 🙂
Amazing to know your mom’s story. Brought out in beautiful thoughts.
“Germany, 1955: She had just given birth to a daughter, through excruciating pain. The baby surprised everyone by showing up a full month early. There had been no time to drive to the preferred hospital. Instead, the child was born at the ancient local facility and the mother injured in the process. She should have had a caesarian but that didn’t happen. Subconsciously, she blamed her daughter and for decades, told anyone who would listen how giving birth had ripped her up inside and how she almost died. Finally, her daughter had had enough. “I don’t want to hear that story again. Stop blaming me for all your problems!” The old woman was shocked by this. After all, wasn’t she the one who had suffered in agony? Little did she realize that her daughter’s emotional scars were equal to her own physical ones.” This moved me deeply and, I admit, to tears … because to the similarity to my own story … Love, cat.
Welcome to the Den, Cat. It seems we have a few things in common. 🙂 I’m touched that you were moved by my words and saddened that you suffered a similar experience. No child should ever feel unwanted. Thank you for the visit.
What struck me the most in this piece was the refreshing honesty. It can be hard to speak of all the pain you’ve been through as a child and yet look back with gratitude at what made your mom who she was. Finding the reasons for her behavior and letting go the angst, that doesn’t come easily. So well written, Debbie. May she rest in peace.
Thank you, Shailaja. I prefer to tell things as they are without the sugar coating. Yes, my mother had many issues, but regardless how difficult my childhood was, it made me who I am today – a strong, “take no shit” person. 🙂 I hope my mother is finally at peace. That’s something she never achieved in life.
Hi Debbie,
Wow…this was raw – thank you for sharing this with us. I can imagine how hard it was to share this and I am truly sorry for your loss.
Although I haven’t lost my mom yet, I know that time is coming. With me spending every day with her, I see it but I also see she still wants to fight. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I might not have years but months with my mom and I hope it I can hang on to that when the time comes.
Beautifully written Debbie! My thoughts and prayers are with you.
Take care,
Cori
P.S. Love the new look of your blog!
Thank you, Cori. ♥ This seemed to write itself, in places. It was cathartic, but I hesitated to publish something so personal. I read about your Mom’s health problems and wish her (and you) all the best. My mother was seriously ill and also had Alzheimer’s, so I was prepared. She had a good, long run. 🙂
Sorry for your loss. I liked your honest write up about your mother. And I agree that some people are not cut out to be parents. But whatever be the case, losing a parent is always difficult. I lost my dad when I was a 9 year old and it took me a long time to accept it.
Thanks, Reema. I like to keep things real. 🙂 It must have been terrible to lose your father at such a young age!
Hi Deb, I am so sorry for your lost. The death of a parent no matter the age is not an easy thing. Even if the relationship was not close or if it was, it still is your parent. I remember an uncle of mine at my grandmother’s wake saying, “you can replace a wife but not a mother” – sad but yet really true! I lost mine 2 1/2 years ago and it really changed my life. Mine too was never to say the I love you words til she knew she was dying.
The whole thing made me want to live more each day and that life is really short.
Good luck with the rest of the process Debbie. I think your mom did give you strength your whole life and it will guide and help you through.
Thank you so much, Lisa. I remember when your Mom passed away. I hope the pain of grief has dulled a little, over time. The fact that my mother and I lived 2600 miles apart for 42 years makes it a little less jarring at this point. I’m sure it’ll affect me more when I get to California in a couple of weeks.
It comes and goes Deb. I hope your trip goes smoothly and you don’t get jarred by it. I had a bad day on the 5th anniversary of her death but doing okay now. 🙂
Oh, Debbie, I’m so sorry for your loss. I know how it feels to lose parents, the regrets, what-ifs, should’ves. I am glad, though, that you had your closure when she said those magic words. I know you loved her, too, as this beautiful piece is testimony to that…My condolences, Debbie…
Thank you so much, J.Gi! It still feels a little surreal.
It will probably feel that way in a long while…But I know you’ll stay strong.
Thanks again. 🙂 I’ll be fine. My mother had a long, interesting life.
That was powerful stuff. Never dreamed it was real life until just before the end. I really don’t know what to say from there… except that nobody ever has those perfect lives, and I’ve found the harder you try to create it, the farther you go from it.
Thanks, Chris. Your words of wisdom are spot on!
This is one of the most candid and poignant, superbly written memorials I’ve ever read. I knew at once it was about your mom and I think that’s why my heart ached even as it soared for your strength and clarity of mind to overlook the imperfections and love her anyway. Not everyone can do that, bless your heart.
Thank you, Diedre. I’ve always been candid by nature. My mother and I had a difficult relationship, but she gave me life and I have to love her for that, at the very least.
This story is riveting, and enhanced that it is all a true story, of a life led. Fascinating.
Extending my deepest sympathies to you, as well as her extended family and friends.
Thank you, Myke. This was my reality. A good illustration that not everything is as wonderful as it may seem.
I am deeply moved by this rendering of your mother’s life. I admire her stamina, yet saddened that she often could not hide her pain and instead drew you into it. Your ability to realize you needed distance in order to lead your own healthy life, had to make you strong, but also had to give you pause. I wish peace for your mother. I wish peace for you and yours.
Welcome to The Den, Beth. Yes, I believe the distance helped a lot. When you grow up in a dysfunctional family, your only recourse is to become stronger, otherwise, you’ll be even more screwed up.
Beautiful story, and a great example of how many women in that generation lived with a totally different mindset! Perfectionism is still glorified in this society, thankfully there is a spiritual movement happening and women are awakening to the fact that we must pay attention to our values and priorities and not worry about other’s expectations.
Welcome to The Den, Tina. It’s sad when outward appearance is more important than reality. Yes, women of that generation were typically raised to be “perfect” homemakers, etc. Thanks for dropping in!
My late best friend’s parents were both German Holocaust survivors. Sadly, in her declining years my friend’s Mom drifted more and more into the “Hitler years”. This caused my friend tremendous emotional pain. My parents have been gone many years. I suspect that if my Mom had lived into my teen years, our relationship would have been complicated. I am sorry for your loss.
Thank you, Alana. I’m sorry your friend had such a difficult time with her mother. My mother went through a period of dwelling on the war and wanted to document her experiences, but then changed her mind. Too bad! It would have been a great book (that was the original plan). How sad to lose your own mother at such a young age! Sounds like you didn’t have the best relationship, either.
Love can be a difficult emotion for some people to show. And you’re right–some people may not be cut out to be parents or maybe they just never learn the art of parenting well.
Arlee Bird
Yes, my mother was not one to show affection. It was only recently that I came to realize what was going on all those years; she was a typical narcissist. On the other hand, she allowed me to experience the joys of travel and gave me a sense of style. I’ll always be grateful for those things.
This was fabulous and beautifully written Debbie. It’s great that you can pull all the positives that she imparted to you over the course of her life and I’m so glad she said those all-important words, “I love you.” That had to hit you hard when she said it and it must have been so welcoming. Some people just don’t know how to show affection but I’m so happy that she found her way to tell you that she did indeed love you and appreciated all you had done for her.
I’m sure the coming months will be a rollercoaster of emotions. Know that I’m thinking of you.
All the best,
XOXO
Michele at Angels Bark
Thank you, Michele. I hesitated posting something so personal but writing it was definitely cathartic. My mother surprised me with that revelation, as her usual comments involved criticism. It was definitely nice to hear! 🙂 Yes, I’m dreading the trip to California (leaving Oct. 30), but it will be the last chapter of a long saga.
My thoughts are with you and your Mom as well, during your own difficult time of mourning. ♥
I assumed it was about your mom from the title which immediately drew me in. It is so difficult to understand how a woman who gives birth to a child does not automatically have a mother’s heart. But I know it happens….often. You did an awesome job sharing this story and it certainly made me appreciate you more. I will be thinking of you when you make that trip down South to close that chapter of your life.
Thank you so much, Carol. Who knows what my mother’s early life was like and then to suffer the horrors of war? That’s bound to have a profound effect on a person. My mother was a textbook narcissist and while she caused me much grief, she also introduced me to travel and culture and gave me insight into human behaviour.
Debbie, I am truly sorry for your loss. How brave of you to put it all in writing. I did not have a happy childhood with my own mother and rarely talk about it let alone put it into words. Take care with what awaits you in California.
Thank you, Denise. I’m sorry you had mother issues as well. There was an intense internal debate going on about whether or not to publish this. Writing it was cathartic, but to share something so personal made me hesitate. Maybe it can help someone else in a similar situation feel less alone?