Chapter 11

 It took me a very long time to understand my mother’s choice.  Once I was removed from her home, I didn’t look back.  She may have been my biological mother, but she wasn’t really my mom.  I would see her on the weekends I would spend with my grandmother or major holidays.  She was invited to my graduations and my wedding, but she was never in the central role of my mother.  That spot was reserved for my Aunt Peg.  As I’ve said, my mother chose to stay married to Phil and deny what had happened.  So I chose to barely acknowledge her existence.  That is until I was forced to.  That happened in the winter of 2009 when her husband of 33 years passed away.  She called me on Thanksgiving Day and told me Phil was in the hospital and he might die.  “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Mom.  I’ll call and check in on you tomorrow.”  This news sent me into a mental tailspin.  What would happen to my mother if he died?  Would I have to take care of her?  Would she have to move in with me?  I was in a deep panic as I sat stone-faced at Thanksgiving dinner with my husband and his family.  The next day when I called, she said he was doing much better and would be going home soon.  Thank God.  I let out the first breath of relief in the last 24 hours.  The relief didn’t last long.  A few days later, I was checking my home voice mail from work.  The message was from one of Phil’s sisters, Sharon.  She relayed the info that Phil had passed away and my mom was staying with her.  I called instantly and said I would be there the next day to come get her.  I hope you all don’t mind I’ve jumped ahead chronologically, but I felt it was time I told you the whole story of who my mother is.  I felt you needed to know why she chose to let her child go.  I needed to know, as well.  But I had to wait about 25 years until I really understood.  You just need to wait until Monday.