{ Motherless Daughters } uniting those experiencing motherloss

Our Stories

Jennifer's Story

My father was a man who was into drinking, drugs, and living a life full of irresponsiblity, problems, and drama. My mother was from a quiet little place called Terrence Bay where everyone there has a 'down home' accent, a small fishing village originally. They met through friends, and were married at 18yrs (myra aka. mom) and 20yrs (dad) for three years. From what I know, my dad thought he loved her and she him, although in hindsight he realizes that her father was a difficult and controlling man, resulting in her eagerness to be married and out of the house. My grandfather and father didn't get along. They both drank like crazy, but my grandfather used to always tell me it was my father who caused all the problems (defending my mother), and visa versa. In their three short years of marriage, her first pregnancy was unwanted (by her) and envoked feelings for an abortion (but needed my fathers permission to have one beck then...so I'm told) and was refused the option. This first baby was me.

Unwanted from the beginning. I would later be told the she even went so far as to say I was another mans child (though untrue). A year and 9 months later, my mother would feel the same way towards my brother, resulting in the same outcome...another unwanted child. After cheating and discontent, my father would come to find my brother and myself at the babysitters, and no mother around. He called her to find out what was going on, and she was leaving. She went on to ask get custody of us so that she wouldn't have to move home, with the assistance of social assistance. My father refused. He couldn't take care of us, so it was suggested that his mother (my grandmother aka. Eleanor) would take care of us, as she had babysat us for a few years. Apparently, later I would find out from the horse's mouth, that my aunt and uncle (mom's brother's family who we loved very much, and would cry when we left after visits with them and our cousins...both girls, one of which was exactly my age and loved poetry and writing as much as myself) wanted to have custody, and asked to be informed of the court date.

So, off we went with our grandmother...no mother or father. Dad was driving cab and doing heavy drugs, and would pop by for brief visits, or would stay for a few days because his girlfriend at the time would kick him out for drinking/fighting...whatever. One of my most lasting impressions of those days would be having a Christmas dinner with him and his girlfriend at their apartment, them getting drunk (my grandmother was at my aunts...my dad's 18yr older sister from another man) and I said something about my grandfather, or cousin from my mothers side (I was about 5 or 6) and my dad pulled me aside and said (drunkenly so), "Jenn, you shouldn't have said that...you opened an old can of worms..." The next thing I know was that they were fighting, and Chris (my brother) and I were on our way with an unknown cab driver, to my aunts house to finish the rest of our Christams. That night, when were home in bed, I remember hearing my father show up. He was completly wasted. My grandmother would forever take him in, and do whatever it took to make him happy. She had given him up to foster care when he was younger, because she couldn't take care of him as a single mother at the time. She used to visit on a regular basis, but didn't know about the abuse he would experience form the man of the house at that time. I think her guilt (brought on by my fathers drunken states?) made her the way she was towrds him in those end days...catering to only him when he came to live with us, doing without food, saving everthing for "your father"...even Christmases without gifts, because he spent it all with his alcoholic friends...

Anyway, that night he came over drunk from the fighting with his girlfriend, he yelled and screamed obscenities about me that I had never heard before. It was all my fault. I ran into my closet, scared out of my mind...trying to hide...then I thought, 'he's going to kill me if he finds me hiding in the closet', so I went back into my bed, and waited...he came in, punched the wall right next to my head, and told me I was a B...h, and and unwanted, and on and on and on...I was so scared I thought my heart was going to explode.

So, with many appearences like these, life went on. My mother never sowed up for visits, and they were eventually called off all together, by who, I don't think I will ever know. Finally, at the age of about 10yrs, my dad permanently moved in with us.

Years went on with no mother, and a strained relationship with our father. We ended up having a pretty okay relationship many years later. He tried to tell us what to do, disipline us, drink around us, telling us what pieces of crap we both were, and worse. Always with the 'unwanted' word. He used to pick on my brother, and he was so innocent to me...I hated him for those things. My grandmother would just sit out in the kitchen and say.."Now, Paul, just calm down..." I would sit with my head next to my bedroom door, listening, crying, waiting for my brother to sneak into my room, and we would hug each other and cry together...for each other.

As time passed I learned that my father wasn't supposed to be living with us because of the welfare my grandmother was on. I would use this information the next time he slammed my head into the wall, calling the cops, and it would never happen again. There was a day we weren't on assistance anymore, and things would change. I saw my dad beat the crap out of my brother for no reason.

Anyway, back to my mother...When I was sixteen, I learned that my mother had been married (I remember feeling so alienated from what was supposed to be my life) and everyone, cousins and all, had been invited. I think my grandfather got my mother to call me shortly after (he seemed to care about me/us back then). I was crying and slammed the phone down on the counter and ran into my room, and I just remember feeling so completely hurt...like what did I ever do to her?

I would learn soon after that she moved to Ontario from Nova Scotia. I felt so sad. She was always near us before, and now she was froever gone (or so it seemed). An important thing to note - my family on her side would NEVER give us her phone number or address. She had a new life, and didn't want to just hear form us out of the blue. 'Too tramatic for her' was the popular theory. She would call only about twice in our lives until I was 18. I actually got a letter from her once, and we wrote back and forth for a year while she was away. The letters sounded like they were from a stranger. No love, very empty, and even sent a christmas card once that said (by accident) "Love Myra (not mom as in previous letters) and John (her husband). Just another Christamas card to sign...no thought into it. OOps. It killed me.

Then she just stopped. Eventually I found out she moved back and was under-going chemotherapy for cancer. I was so sad, I asked my grandfather to get her to call me, which she didn't. I send my condolences through him (as I never had her number or location). I was always given the excuse that her husband didn't like children, and that was why...Finally, we met up with her to go out and have a 'day out'. She was visiting the area, and was on vacation for two weeks. She spent one day with us (I was about 18 or so...my age at these times always mixes me up...) and spent the rest of it with other relatives. That hurt.

The next few years I had moved out and struggled on my own, working and getting by. I had lived with a guy and after two shaky years, and two forced abortions later, it didn't work out, and I had to move home, except my father said I couldn't come home because things were to quiet around the house, so I moved in with two guys from Subway (where I had just gotten a job). I didn't know them, but I had a place to go. I ended up meeting another new beau, moved to another county, and got pregnant. He wanted to get married, but I didn't feel that I loved him like that, so I asked my father if I could moved home, and again, no.

My best friend was living in Calgary, and she said I could go and stay at her parents. I moved there (which was so weird and strange without her there). I got a job at 5 months pregnant, and decided I was going to give my baby up for open adoption, so I could pick her family myself, and see her, and we could have a relationship. I couldn't take care of her...I was working at a popcorn store, and refused to go on social assistance, knowing she would have a far better life with another family, than stuggling with me, that way I was raised. I was screwed up, and I didn't want her to be screwed up because of me. My father had a girlfriend now, and my brother was living with a few friends. When that didn't work out for him, my father refused to let him move in, and Chris ended up on the stret a few nights, until I called up my father and yelled at him. He was looking after her two small children, and Chris was on the street. Finally, after begging, he took him in. I told my father about my oplans for open adoption, and he screamed that he would take her, and that I was good for nothing, and I was this and that for doing what I was planning to do. I said," Is that what you will say to her if she gets pregnant? No thanks!" We only talked a few times about it, and every time, the same thing. He was the poor guy, losing HIS grandchild..no compassion for what I was going through, AT ALL! It's always about him. Still is.

I stayed with the boyfriend for 3 years. I loved him, but he loved to gamble, never worked, and never made love to me, and was addicted to porn. It was three years full of finding them hidden all over the house, trowing them out the balcony window, breaking them...lots of tears, and hurt. I really thought he loved me. He was just conning me, ruined my credit...the whole song and dance. We were even engaged in the end. I called my grandfather after I had my daughter, and said I wished I could talk to my mother. He ended up geting her to call me, and because it was prompted by my grandfather, it felt so insincere. I told her I had to go, because I had too many people there visiting...a lie...

After a very difficult time with seeing the new family of my daughter, and saying goodbye in the hospital, Me, my swollen breasts, and painful scars, and my empty heart went home. I was called to start back at my retail job six days after having her, five of which was in the hospital. If I didn't go back, they would have to replace me, because they needed me. I went back, strong with determination to prove that NOTHING would ever hurt me or set me back. I had my strenth to prove to the world. I don't know how I got out of bed during those days. The mere thought of my daughter made every part of me hurt. But I got through it, and convinced my boss I was management material. I went through a stint of heavy partying, doing ecstasy, and went down to 89 pounds in 4 months afterwards.

My boyfriends father passed away, and had to fly to Egypt (where he is from) to go to the funeral. He went for three weeks. I was visiting my other best friend at her job during my lonliness. She was waitressing. I remember seeing her there a few times before this next thing happened. One day, while I was there writing in my journal, I looked up, and there was my mother, in uniform...I was in complete shock. We said hello to one another, chit chatted for a minuet, and my best friend says..."How do you know her?" I told her it was my mother (who she knows all about). My friend had been working with my infamous mother for over four months. She was shocked, I was shocked...I can't begin to describe what this situation was like.

I ended up going home motivated to write my mother a letter, asking her the all important question of 'WHY'...which I had never actually done before. I always tried so hard to understand her reasoning, her circumstances and her feelings. I was always justifying her reasons for never being around. I wrote this very diplomatic letter...I was about 23 now, I could express my feelings and I wanted to know. I gave this letter to my best friend to give to her. It was sealed, send and delivered.

That night, around supper time, my grandfather called me to freak out. He said that if I caused her to get her cancer back again, he would put a restraining against me! I couldn't believe it! I had NEVER harassed my mother. I had hardly even known her! I thought I was justified to ask why...I thought it was my freaking RIGHT! SHE brought me into this world...I deserved to know what was going on. I was nice about it too, after all these years. After the call from my grandfather, surprisingly enough, my mother called me (the number was left in the letter..) and she was completely screaming at me...saying I envaded her privacy, that I was grown up now and didn't need her anymore. She said I didn't understand...this went on for about an hour...yelling back and forth. Finally, I said I just needed a friend...a connection...someone to relate to. I wasn't like my brother and my father. I was the only responsible one, the only one with my life on track, jobs, education, making strong decisions. About an hour and a half later, we came to an agreement. It was the first time I had ever heard my mother cry, that night. It was an incredible feeling. To think that my mother might just love me after all. A child's worst nightmare, thinking you are ACTUALLY NOT loved, had been put to reat that day, until a few years later, anyway.

We decided we would make plans to keepin touch. It was amazing. That night, my father called, and I told him everything. I hoped he would be happy for me, as he never put all of the blame on her over the years. He always just said they were too young, and that they had both contributed to the marrital demise. So, The only thing he got out of the whole conversation was what my grandfather had said to me...and he was angry. I begged and pleaded for him to NOT get drunk, and NOT call my grandfather to defend me, because everything turned out okay.

8:30am the next morning I got a phone call while I was getting ready for work. It was my mother. She says that she just got a phone call from my grandfather, and my dad had called to lose it on my grandfather for saying what he said. I was angry, but I thought later, that my dad was only sticking up for his daughter, exactly what HER father had done...she went on to say very simply, "I want nothing to do with you..." THE END...not really, but almost.

I was mad for a while, but time goes unforgivably on. After I ended my relationship with the arabic guy, I went through A very difficult survival mode, financially and emationally. I had to sell my things to pay the rent, and worked the graveyard shift at Tim Hortons to get by, and I mean barely. I went to visit my grandfather because I was so lost, and needed some family connection. It was good. He offered me money, that I ABSOLUTELY DID NOT ask for. He gave me some food to get by, and we saw each other quite a bit. It was so ice. I met a new guy (who I love more than anything in this world, next to my beautiful daughter, who is now 4, and we have a great relationship, she knows I'm her birth mother..) and I decided around Mother's Day of 2002 that I was going to try to contact her. I found her address and decided I would try to write a letter. I said nothing mean, I just explained things the way I saw them from over the years. I said I didn't understand why she was so afraid to get to know me, and that I was really a good person, and I had a lot of love to give her, and that I wanted nothing but a connection. She ended up calling me, and said..."What are writing me for?! I want NOTHING to do with you. I am OVER it, so why can't you get over it? You really have deep rooted issues, Jennifer. You need to see someone. Your grandfather said the last time you were out here, he noticed TRACK MARKS on your arms.."(I was almost laughing, because I was comletely taken aback by this statement...it was as true as if she had said she found out I was an alien form outter space!! I don't even drink...resulting from my father) I told her I would SHOW her my arms, if she would ever give me the opportunity to show her I wasn't who she was making me out to be. I read, I'm smart, I'm strong, I love hard, and I'm loyal. I have drive and I have stuggled through this crap life, and come out of it pretty darn together!!! I said, how can you judge me based on li

And finally, the nightmare became a reality..."I don't want anything to do with you, never then and never now. Get over it, because I have." And that was it. That summer my grandmother (the only mom I knew) passed away, my grandfather became the enemy, my brother is bipolar, him and my father came to live with me at the same time in my one bedroom with my current beau and myself. Now, things are back to normal. They can't get their lives together, and I have been appointed, (somehow...) their mother, always being asked for money, listening to them complain about the problems they create in their lives, and hearing them say I am 'pretentious', that I think I am better then them, just because I give the only advice I know. And, I wonder how it all happened, and where it will all go...

Thanks for listening. I really neede to get this all of my chest. Sorry it was so long. I have a hard time condensing this story.

� Jennifer Mcarey

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