{ Motherless Daughters } uniting those experiencing motherloss

Our Stories

Paula's Story

I am 41, almost 42. To a lot of women, I am middle aged but to me, I am still smart and vibrant and hip and cool...and 19. I was 19 when I got the call from my mother's doctor, telling me she had passed away. I was 19, my siblings were 17, 15, 13, 9 & 3. I was 19 when I had to tell each one that our Mom was dead. I was 19 when I had to tell my dad. And her sisters and brothers. And her friends and the funeral director. I was 19 when I apologized to her doctor because he was so distraught and I felt bad for him. My mom was 39, my dad was 42. And with one statement..."Your mother passed away a short time ago" at 1:30pm on February 18,1983 my life stopped and started again. It was as if with her death, the girl I was died and the woman I had to become was forced into this world. I had been playing mom for a few short months, feeding and cleaning up after and caring for the family, tending to my mom as the chemo wore her down and eventually took her mind from us...I went from insipid sorority girl to desperate housewife in just a few months.

And today I am pissed off. Go ahead and tell me it's been almost 22 years. Tell me to get therapy. Note that on the exact DAY-- down to the hour and minute -- that I outlived my mom that I curled up in a ball and cried. Note that I gave my big "Fuck you" to the cosmos by getting pregnant at 40 (and even AFTER a miscarriage on my honeymoon, I got pregnant AGAIN). Yeah,that feels better. What makes me sick and sad and angry and furious and lonely and ripped off and livid and lost is that there is NO group, no therapist, no drug, no drink, no man, no sex, no amount of money on Earth that can give me what I want.

I want my mother.

Š Paula Scheider

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