Courtney’s Story

My Mum was a hard woman.
Very much a no-nonsense kind of woman.
Told me once that depression was only for rich people.
We had to get on with things.

She had an entire other life before she met my Dad and had 2 more children with him.
I was the youngest of 6.
She was 34 when she had me.
She was secret keeper.
Believed I was too young for adult issues.
Even when she died in my 39th year she had her secrets from me.
She was overly protective. Limited our childhood as much as she could. Judged particular friends and was strong on punishment.
She was overly involved in my life.
Worked at the school, probably read my diary and said No a lot.
She was incredibly judgmental.
On people's looks, lifestyles or even their opinions.
When I met my now husband she called him so many names. Fat, lazy, ugly.
When I fell pregnant with my first child she told me I would only have ugly children.

She was a hard woman.
But she loved hard.

I never went without as a child.
We weren't spoilt but she made sure we had all we needed.
She knew all my friends names and made connections with their mothers.
She held me close when I cried. And I cried a lot.
She sat and listened over broken hearts. Never saying  "I told you so".
She encouraged me to be loud and different.
She encouraged my dreams and had incredibly big dreams for me.

When I gave birth to my first child she held my hand throughout the entire process.
Leaving the second she knew I was ok.
And she loved my son.
He was probably her favourite.
I went on to have more children.
Who she adored and spoilt and made connections with each and everyone of them.
She loved my husband. Listened intently to his long winded stories.

As an adult with my own family, Mum and I fought a lot. We disagreed on everything it seemed. The names I chose for my babies, the outfits I put on them or even how I parented.
We could go weeks without speaking.
And it was always me that apologized first.
It was always me that said I love you first.
Or reached out for that hug.

Big moments happened in the last 10 years of her life. A lot of grief and trauma that was never processed.
I didn't understand. I had small children and a busy life. And she had her secrets.
I just saw the drinking.
She said she was in pain and it helped.
But it made it hard to be with her.
And it made our relationship hard.
Yes we had good days where we would laugh over the kids or she would cry to me how frustrating one of my siblings were being.
But the drinking became constant and my Mum was slipping away.
I no longer trusted her with the kids.
I yelled at her more then I should.
I judged her.

She knew she was dying. Months before. And she never told me. Another secret. Another way to protect me.
I remember so clearly how one day out of the blue she pulled me in for a hug and told me how much she loved me.
I know now she was saying goodbye.
Looking back she was so brave. To know what was coming and still listen to me ramble on about my silly issues.

When she left me I was devastated. Broken.
I didn't see it coming. I wasn't ready.
How was I going to be a mother or even exist without her.
But I had 4 kids to raise. Children who had lost their beloved Nana. I had all my older siblings to deal with. I had my heart broken father to look after.
All things I knew my Mother expected me to do.
I didn't have the time to grieve her the way I wanted to. I had to get on with things
But she left a huge hole in my life.

I did not know my Mum until after she passed.
My mothers step father did things to her that were unimaginable.
My mother's first husband was a drunk and beat her.
Her 2nd child passed away at 4 years old from a pointless accident that Mum felt she could have prevented.
My mothers step father did things to her small children while she was lost in the grief of her daughter.
My mothers first life before me was filled with trauma.

She tried so hard when I was born to be better. To raise me better. To fix all the mistakes she felt she had made. So yes she kept a very watchful eye on me. Made sure she knew everyone in my life. Kept me young and innocent from the big bag ugly world.
I didn't understand it then.

She was given a second chance with me.
And she did it the best she could.
I know this now.