So my mum showed up at home yesterday. She came bearing gifts – bags – for my daughter. My Husband opened the door first, unfortunately the kids were with him. I heard my him yell out my name “PROBLEM!” before I heard her voice “please, please just listen to me” “No leave my house” he was saying while closing the door and I was running over to get the kids. I rushed them off with my husband inside the house. It was a little bit chaotic and my son fell and started crying. My husband carried him off and I saw my daughter was already at the end of the hallway. She didn’t look back. I heard my husband asking me not to yell just as I opened the door.
There she was. The same clothes she was wearing last time she came to see me “God doesnt she have anything else? Probably trying to play on the fact that she is heart broken. Look I’m so heart broken I haven’t even paid attention to my clothes” “Please leave or I’ll call the police” “Just take these” she says while trying to shove them through the small gap in the door. “Leave or I will call the police” Her hands began to shake and her face fell. For a second, just a second, I felt bad. I felt like the worst human being in the world. But then I saw it… her whole arm was shaking. You know like when you want to make sure people know you’re upset, you give your hands that extra little bit of a shake. I looked up to see her face and I saw the anger behind those eyes that are trying terribly hard to look sad. And my brain said “close the door” as my hands were pushing the door shut. I ran to my daughter to see if she was okay even though every part of my being just wanted to crawl into a corner. My son was playing already in the lounge room, he had no idea. My daughter looked like she had just seen a ghost. “I don’t want to leave this house mama” My husband assures her that we won’t be leaving as this is our house. “There are monsters” “No honey, Monsters can’t come inside this house, come on lets go have a bath” my husband tried to reassure her and distract her. She protested at first but when I agreed to come in with her she agreed reluctantly. That was the quietest and the quickest bath my kids have ever had. I took her to her room and started working on some writing exercises hoping to distract her, but I knew I had to acknowledge it.
“How do you feel baby?”
– silence –
“happy, scared, angry or sad?”
“you dont need to be. Nothing bad can come into this house because mama wont let them in…why are you scared?”
“I know! Thats why we had to leave because grandma was not being nice to mama and dada and you and your brother too. Don’t you think we are happier now since we left?”
“How do you feel now?”
“I miss grandma too you know”
“Me too mama”
“But Grandma wasn’t nice to mama. Do you understand? ”
“Do you have any questions?”
“Ill always be here for you no matter what”
Maybe I could have given my mum a chance. Maybe she came to apologise but I know deep down that these thoughts are coming from the child in me, still waiting for that fantasy to come true. The reality was the fake arm shake, the anger in those eyes, that all too familiar you moron look she gave me, the fact that my dad was not with her, the fact that she started saying please please quite loudly to my husband before he said anything. The fact is – she did not show up like this for my sons bday or my husbands. The fact is, my parents still think that gifts would bring me back to them. That charity money is what I need. Reality is, she went overseas, had the time of her life, bought all these gifts because she thought I’d come back to her without her having to do anything, maybe even got gifts from people that have no idea and just wanted me to have it. So it won’t go to waste. There was no love there. Just money and not wanting to waste it. And as bad as I feel now for closing the door on my mothers face for the second time, I know I made the right choice for my kids. They deserve a better role model.
I saw the whatsapp message first.
The email was next and then the letter this morning.
I will leave this here and let you judge what type of person my dad is.