{ Motherless Daughters } uniting those experiencing motherloss

Our Stories

Melissa's Story

My mother died 23 years ago from a brain tumor. She was very sick for a long time before she died. I was eight years old and my sister was 11. I still have many problems dealing with my mothers death... mainly because I was so young and cannot remember times when I was with her. I wonder, daily, do I act like her, do I smile like her, would she have done this or that? I will never know these answers and my sister will never be able to tell me either. She has tried to block out the memories, or so she says. She hates to talk about the past, but for me it's an open book with no ending.

My mother was 36 when she died in our living room (where we had her) because she did not want to die alone. My sister and I were at school when she died. I was so angry at her for being sick and she scared me then because she would have horrible seizures that reminded me of monsters. When she would have one I would hide and cry. Many times we were in accidents when she had them, until they took her driving license away. But as I will never forget, one of the last words I told her that I will have to live with for the rest of my life....I was leaving for school that last morning , wishing I could have a normal life and I whispered in her ear that I hated her. I will always feel as if I killed her, I gave her no hope to live. Now if only I could take it all back, if only I had her to hug and tell her I love her, there will always be so many "if only's"...

That is why I have began to heal by making a scrap book of her. I am doing this for my children and for myself. I want to know her and I want them to know her too. She deserves that much from me. I have called all of my relatives and asked for memorabilia of her past. I have a few things she made but most are pictures of her youth.

In 3 years i will be turning her age when she died, and I think of what she had to go through knowing she was leaving behind her two girls to a world of hate and greed. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain she must have went through.

Just recently I had one of her friends to tell me that my m other tried experimental drugs and procedures to help find a cure for this horrible killer. She told her best friend, It may not cure me, but I have to do something for my children. This may be the cure to help them out so they will not have to go through this.

Another really hard factor which really contributed to my blankness of my mother was the fact that my sister and myself was not allowed to mention her name or ask any questions about her. Our stepmother was afraid that our dad would hear us and cry. If only I had the chance to savor every small detail and not have to try to remember after 18 years, I may have many memories that could tell my children.

I will always love her and never ever ever did I actaully hate her. Please, every one out there who reads this cheerish your mother and tell her just how much you love her, because you may never know when God may decide to call her home.

Š Melissa Dinkelman

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