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I'm sorry but that sounds like an insane person wrote it, although, i dont know

what " normal " mothers are like. I can almost picture my nada screaming that to

me in a fit of rage.

---- wrote:

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

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oh my god...that is like one of those email chain letters....! And those kind

of

things make me feel so lonesome. Because I just don't feel that way. I love

my mom, but as everyone here knows, it is so complicated. To have someone

send you that after you explained your issues with your nada is like slapping

you in the face (my opinion). Like telling you to be thankful and just love

your mom.

:P

It is creepy to me too, given the circumstances,

~patricia

I find this creepy

I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

and ideal moms.

One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

aspects of this.

One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

to share it.

It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

your parent.

Here it is:

Your Mother is Always with You

She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

Your mother lives inside your laughter,

She's crystallized in every teardrop...

She's the place you come from, your first home...

She's the map you follow with every step you take.

She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

And nothing can seperate you.

Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

mother.

You carry her inside of you.

Sent from my blueberry.

------------------------------------

Problems? Ask our friendly List Manager for help at @....

SEND HER ANY POSTS THAT CONCERN YOU; DO NOT Respond ON THE GROUP.

To order the KO bible " Stop Walking on Eggshells, " call 888-35-SHELL

() for your copy. We also refer to " Understanding the Borderline

Mother " (Lawson) and " Surviving the Borderline Parent, " (Roth) which you can

find at any bookstore. Welcome to the WTO community!

From Randi Kreger, Owner BPDCentral, WTO Online Community and author SWOE and

the SWOE Workbook.

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,

It didn't bother me that I got it, because it was a mass mail to the entire

list - a bunch of nice ladies who obviously had much loved mothers.

But even with a much loved mother it sounds creepy to me, lol.

In a message dated 5/5/2010 7:21:05 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

coyotesun1@... writes:

oh my god...that is like one of those email chain letters....! And those

kind of

things make me feel so lonesome. Because I just don't feel that way. I love

my mom, but as everyone here knows, it is so complicated. To have someone

send you that after you explained your issues with your nada is like

slapping

you in the face (my opinion). Like telling you to be thankful and just love

your mom.

:P

It is creepy to me too, given the circumstances,

~patricia

I find this creepy

I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

and ideal moms.

One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

aspects of this.

One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

to share it.

It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

your parent.

Here it is:

Your Mother is Always with You

She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

Your mother lives inside your laughter,

She's crystallized in every teardrop...

She's the place you come from, your first home...

She's the map you follow with every step you take.

She's your first love and your first heartbreak..S

And nothing can seperate you.

Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

mother.

You carry her inside of you.

Sent from my blueberry.

------------------------------------

Problems? Ask our friendly List Manager for help at

_@..._ (mailto:@...) . SEND HER ANY POSTS THAT

CONCERN YOU; DO

NOT Respond ON THE GROUP.

To order the KO bible " Stop Walking on Eggshells, " call 888-35-SHELL

() for your copy. We also refer to " Understanding the Borderline

Mother " (Lawson) and " Surviving the Borderline Parent, " (Roth) which you can

find at any bookstore. Welcome to the WTO community!

From Randi Kreger, Owner BPDCentral, WTO Online Community and author SWOE

and the SWOE Workbook.Yahoo! Groups Links

----------------------------------------------------------

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14:26:00

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Whoa. The poem sounds like the relationship between two highly enmeshed people.

This line was particularly peculiar: She's your first love and your first

heartbreak...

First heartbreak seems to imply that some people date their mothers or have an

unhealthy infatuation with their mothers. I know that is probably not what was

meant when they wrote it, but the word choice is off.

The carry you inside of her part sounds strange too. Shouldn't it be the other

way around--she carried you inside of her? Or maybe it is a " normal " childhood

phrase associated with Mother's that is over my head...haha

-Joy

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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Joy,

I wondered about that heartbreak bit too. It seemed a bit incestuous. Odd.

E

In a message dated 5/5/2010 7:21:42 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

joy.lynch54@... writes:

Whoa. The poem sounds like the relationship between two highly enmeshed

people.

This line was particularly peculiar: She's your first love and your first

heartbreak..T

First heartbreak seems to imply that some people date their mothers or

have an unhealthy infatuation with their mothers. I know that is probably not

what was meant when they wrote it, but the word choice is off.

The carry you inside of her part sounds strange too. Shouldn't it be the

other way around--she carried you inside of her? Or maybe it is a " normal "

childhood phrase associated with Mother's that is over my head...haha

-Joy

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak..

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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Well I have to admit I was working out variations that would be more

appropriate to NADAs - like The cool hand on your brow who smacks you and says

get up, you're not sick!

In a message dated 5/5/2010 7:32:33 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

vegdeanna@... writes:

for some reason, this strikes me as hilarious.

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak..

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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All of my creepy kidding aside, this line was the one that bothered me the

most in this little poem. The thought that even after her death I will

never be free of her legacy is frightening.

E

In a message dated 5/5/2010 8:18:22 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

christine.depizan@... writes:

Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.(actually, mother.(actually,<WBR>I intend for my NC to apply in

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for some reason, this strikes me as hilarious.

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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I agree, that is weird. I didn't read the whole thing!

~p

Re: I find this creepy

Whoa. The poem sounds like the relationship between two highly enmeshed

people.

This line was particularly peculiar: She's your first love and your first

heartbreak...

First heartbreak seems to imply that some people date their mothers or have an

unhealthy infatuation with their mothers. I know that is probably not what was

meant when they wrote it, but the word choice is off.

The carry you inside of her part sounds strange too. Shouldn't it be the other

way around--she carried you inside of her? Or maybe it is a " normal " childhood

phrase associated with Mother's that is over my head...haha

-Joy

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

------------------------------------

Problems? Ask our friendly List Manager for help at @....

SEND HER ANY POSTS THAT CONCERN YOU; DO NOT Respond ON THE GROUP.

To order the KO bible " Stop Walking on Eggshells, " call 888-35-SHELL

() for your copy. We also refer to " Understanding the Borderline

Mother " (Lawson) and " Surviving the Borderline Parent, " (Roth) which you can

find at any bookstore. Welcome to the WTO community!

From Randi Kreger, Owner BPDCentral, WTO Online Community and author SWOE and

the SWOE Workbook.

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,I fully agree this is a perfect example of how difficult it would be to

explain what a nada is as opposed to a mother.It would give me the

creeps,too...as a reminder of the disconnect between what it all should have

been/could have been...and isn't/wasn't...

Maybe we could add our own parentheses to Your Mother is Always with You

as a KO group therapy exercise? Like,as bitter or honest or as poignant as we

wanna be--no holds barred putting our *truth* to this...I hope you don't mind

the imposition--personally I can't resist..it's too much for me to let those

lines stand as they are...a la " thank you for sharing but I just need to say " ...

What would be your corrective parentheses? Here are mine:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You (as an elusive image that never takes on real

maternal form)

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.(and the echo of

traumatic memories I'd sooner forget)

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.(which reminds me of

her " having to do all the housework " rages)

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.(in my imagination: she

never tended to me when I was sick)

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,(often,gallows humor)

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...(the few precious tears I manage to

shed since she beat the ability to cry out of me)

> She's the place you come from, your first home...(a place I am still trying to

transcend,to find a healthier place to be in)

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.(which has made me a mere

babe in the woods many times,as lost as Hansel and Gretel)

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...(a heartbreak that

perpetuates)

> And nothing can seperate you.(NC *does* help)

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.(actually,I intend for my NC to apply in the afterlife as well)

> You carry her inside of you.(to my own detriment,but as I exorcise her from my

being the being parentified by her diminishes and diminishes: I do not have to

carry her like a baby,a child--I need not be " pregnant " with nada...nor do I

need to listen to her tapes or voice in my own head...Striving to just put her

down...)

So said this KO...Thanks for posting this,.

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Yep, it's from the perspective of someone whose mother was the definition of

love to them. I would guess separation from that kind of mother IS their first

heartbreak - going to kindergarten, first night at camp, leaving home. It's so

alien to us, but from what I hear that is what it is like. Many don't feel

" thank God I'm outta here " when they get to step away and grow up. And they

cannot comprehend what it is for us to wish to get out while being in preschool

or even with our very first memories of thought.

My mother's day card solution is just to get one that is very plain and simple,

sometimes humorous. The schmaltzy ones would be a lie and hurt to even read.

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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The KO's reality:

Your Mother is Always with You

(despite the long standing restraining order)

She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

(as she's hiding in the shrubbery)

She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

(that she's cut to pieces because you didn't appreciate HER for the birthday

gift she gave you)

She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

(and the residual sting as the blood rushes back to your face following the slap

for " faking it to ruin HER day " )

Your mother lives inside your laughter,

(brought on by the Prozac countless therapists tried to give YOU because they

didn't believe you....)

She's crystallized in every teardrop...

(and would LOVE to be made into a human diamond upon her death to hang from your

neck...forever)

She's the place you come from, your first home...

(that psych ward in training if you don't get out of there)

She's the map you follow with every step you take.

(while praying someone eats the breadcrumbs she's put down so she can't her way

back to your house)

She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

(and, damnit, no one will EVER love you as much as her ~ she'll make sure of

that!)

And nothing can seperate you.

(see human diamond tip from above)

Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

mother.

(cause Lord knows you've tried!)

You carry her inside of you.

(like excrement.)

Lynnette

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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wow...creepy isn't a strong enough word...this poem is so true...for the norm

who sent it found it endearing and close to the heart...i read it and feel like

i'm goin to have nightmares tonight...

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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Ha--brilliant!! Thanks for the good laugh. :)

And yeah, original was beyond creepy. <shudder>

The restrains of " I'm going to be all alone on mother's day " are in fully swing

from my nada. I'm *this* close to giving her a piece of my mind...the piece

that says: " well, if you actually *were* a mother.... "

We should introduce a whole 'nother kind of holiday on mother's day--something

like, " KOs: breaking the cycle " day or something, celebrating our unique

resilience, wit and resolve. Yay us! :)

-l

> >

> > I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> > and ideal moms.

> > One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> > nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> > nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> > aspects of this.

> > One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> > Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> > to share it.

> > It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> > so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> > your parent.

> > Here it is:

> >

> > Your Mother is Always with You

> > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> > She's the place you come from, your first home...

> > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> > And nothing can seperate you.

> > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > mother.

> > You carry her inside of you.

> >

> >

> > Sent from my blueberry.

> >

>

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Oh MY God.

Okay I am so creeped out and here's why.

My BP mom was angry with me because I couldn't paint her house during the

time I'm in college. So after a huge blow out she wrote me an apology letter

on the back of a paper place mat with this exact poem on the back! .. The

thing is she gave me the paper, and I never read it.. until the abuse

started up (throwing objects at me, pulling my hair because the bathroom

wasn't clean enough, and digging her nails into my arm, all because she's

known to freak out over the smallest mistake I make) So after all this

drama, I took a plane flight out because I couldn't deal with the visit from

hell anymore, and I remembered that she gave me a letter, so I opened it up

and on the front was this poem, and on the back her apology letter of never

abusing me again, never giving me too much to bear like she always does,

never treating me like her husband, when I am just her 19 year old

daughter..

Anyway, I think it's creepy that other children of BP mothers and Nada's are

getting this poem by email.. It made me cry, and feel confused because how

can you write someone a letter give it to the person you hurt, and then

continue to hurt them! And then I read it and I think Psh, it meant

nothing..

-Kris

On Wed, May 5, 2010 at 10:25 PM,

wrote:

>

>

> Ha--brilliant!! Thanks for the good laugh. :)

>

> And yeah, original was beyond creepy. <shudder>

>

> The restrains of " I'm going to be all alone on mother's day " are in fully

> swing from my nada. I'm *this* close to giving her a piece of my mind...the

> piece that says: " well, if you actually *were* a mother.... "

>

> We should introduce a whole 'nother kind of holiday on mother's

> day--something like, " KOs: breaking the cycle " day or something, celebrating

> our unique resilience, wit and resolve. Yay us! :)

>

> -l

>

>

>

> > >

> > > I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> > > and ideal moms.

> > > One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> > > nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> > > nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> > > aspects of this.

> > > One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> > > Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> > > to share it.

> > > It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> > > so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> > > your parent.

> > > Here it is:

> > >

> > > Your Mother is Always with You

> > > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> > > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> > > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> > > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> > > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> > > She's the place you come from, your first home...

> > > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> > > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> > > And nothing can seperate you.

> > > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > > mother.

> > > You carry her inside of you.

> > >

> > >

> > > Sent from my blueberry.

> > >

> >

>

>

>

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Oh for God s sake, its a load of sacharine horseshit even for someone

with a normal healthy mom. Some Helen Stiener Rice wannabe wrote it to

sell to a greeting card company.

Still, since we are having fun with words,

Your Mother is Always with You

In the FOG around your throat

> > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

No, that is her clinging to your pants leg.

> > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

Nada? Laundry? Are you out of your freaking mind?

> > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

And the guilt trip you ll pay for years for every aspirin.

> > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

That hysterical, manic, they re coming to take me away that threatens to

bubble out of your sanity

> > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

Fair enough, she s F..ing well cause you enough of them!

> > She's the place you come from, your first home...

That place you barely survived for the neglect, the place that taught

you the meaning of escape

> > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

She s taught you so well you can t remember what your feet look like.

You have no bearings or compass, but she ll be glad to order your steps.

> > She's your first love and your first heartbreak..

True. And how F...ing sick is that?

> > And nothing can seperate you.

Like the choke hold of the Boston Strangler.

> > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > mother.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! Just F

ing shoot me!

> > You carry her inside of you.

I m going to be sick.

> >

> > I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> > and ideal moms.

> > One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as

my

> > nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into

a

> > nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and

financial

> > aspects of this.

> > One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> > Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> > to share it.

> > It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it

is

> > so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> > your parent.

> > Here it is:

> >

> > Your Mother is Always with You

> > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> > She's the place you come from, your first home...

> > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> > And nothing can seperate you.

> > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > mother.

> > You carry her inside of you.

> >

> >

> > Sent from my blueberry.

> >

>

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You ll be free if you want to and choose to. It takes time, and hard

work.

But we can do it. We can heal.

Doug

>

> All of my creepy kidding aside, this line was the one that bothered me

the

> most in this little poem. The thought that even after her death I will

> never be free of her legacy is frightening.

>

> E

>

>

> In a message dated 5/5/2010 8:18:22 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

> christine.depizan@... writes:

>

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > mother.(actually, mother.(actually,<WBR>I intend for my NC to apply

in

>

>

>

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Mothers Day........leading into...

NADA night. Celebrated after sundown on Mother s day.

We all get together in a bar and drink little drinks with umbrellas in

them and sing the Pina Colada song over and over till somebody screams.

Doug

> > >

> > > I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy

childhoods

> > > and ideal moms.

> > > One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing

as my

> > > nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved

into a

> > > nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and

financial

> > > aspects of this.

> > > One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> > > Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just

had

> > > to share it.

> > > It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why

it is

> > > so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> > > your parent.

> > > Here it is:

> > >

> > > Your Mother is Always with You

> > > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> > > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> > > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> > > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> > > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> > > She's the place you come from, your first home...

> > > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> > > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> > > And nothing can seperate you.

> > > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from

your

> > > mother.

> > > You carry her inside of you.

> > >

> > >

> > > Sent from my blueberry.

> > >

> >

>

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HAHAA! NADA Night, a new American tradition.. Hey, we can even call up

hallmark and get them to write cards, make it official.

>

>

>

> Mothers Day........leading into...

>

> NADA night. Celebrated after sundown on Mother s day.

>

> We all get together in a bar and drink little drinks with umbrellas in

> them and sing the Pina Colada song over and over till somebody screams.

>

> Doug

>

>

>

> > > >

> > > > I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy

> childhoods

> > > > and ideal moms.

> > > > One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing

> as my

> > > > nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved

> into a

> > > > nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and

> financial

> > > > aspects of this.

> > > > One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> > > > Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just

> had

> > > > to share it.

> > > > It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why

> it is

> > > > so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> > > > your parent.

> > > > Here it is:

> > > >

> > > > Your Mother is Always with You

> > > > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> > > > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> > > > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> > > > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> > > > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> > > > She's the place you come from, your first home...

> > > > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> > > > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> > > > And nothing can seperate you.

> > > > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from

> your

> > > > mother.

> > > > You carry her inside of you.

> > > >

> > > >

> > > > Sent from my blueberry.

> > > >

> > >

> >

>

>

>

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Makes me want to hurl. And I only read the first two lines and then skipped to

the bottom.

Maybe its just my cynicism talking. . . but I'm always vaguely suspicious of

people who worship their mother to that degree. It seems those with normal,

healthy moms LOVE their mom . . .but don't find them " crystalized in every

obssessive and idealized teardrop. " (Slight paraphrase there).

Have you ever met someone who abjectly worshipped their mother and then met

their mother much later? 9 times out of 10, mother is no mother at all. Their

mother has a crazy nada look in her eye, and the worshipper is an enmeshed

captive.

Dunno. I guess I've seen it more than once. And I guess, I'm embarrassed to

admit, I used to worship my mother at one time, too. Had a lot of denial to

accomplish, and worshipping was easier.

yuck.

>

> I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> and ideal moms.

> One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> aspects of this.

> One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> to share it.

> It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> your parent.

> Here it is:

>

> Your Mother is Always with You

> She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> She's the place you come from, your first home...

> She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> And nothing can seperate you.

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> mother.

> You carry her inside of you.

>

>

> Sent from my blueberry.

>

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--that was truly powerful. Thanks for redeeming all of us with our

version.

>

> ,I fully agree this is a perfect example of how difficult it would be to

explain what a nada is as opposed to a mother.It would give me the

creeps,too...as a reminder of the disconnect between what it all should have

been/could have been...and isn't/wasn't...

>

> Maybe we could add our own parentheses to Your Mother is Always with

You as a KO group therapy exercise? Like,as bitter or honest or as poignant as

we wanna be--no holds barred putting our *truth* to this...I hope you don't mind

the imposition--personally I can't resist..it's too much for me to let those

lines stand as they are...a la " thank you for sharing but I just need to say " ...

>

> What would be your corrective parentheses? Here are mine:

>

> >

> > Your Mother is Always with You (as an elusive image that never takes on real

maternal form)

> > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.(and the echo of

traumatic memories I'd sooner forget)

> > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.(which reminds me

of her " having to do all the housework " rages)

> > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.(in my imagination:

she never tended to me when I was sick)

> > Your mother lives inside your laughter,(often,gallows humor)

> > She's crystallized in every teardrop...(the few precious tears I manage to

shed since she beat the ability to cry out of me)

> > She's the place you come from, your first home...(a place I am still trying

to transcend,to find a healthier place to be in)

> > She's the map you follow with every step you take.(which has made me a mere

babe in the woods many times,as lost as Hansel and Gretel)

> > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...(a heartbreak that

perpetuates)

> > And nothing can seperate you.(NC *does* help)

> > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > mother.(actually,I intend for my NC to apply in the afterlife as well)

> > You carry her inside of you.(to my own detriment,but as I exorcise her from

my being the being parentified by her diminishes and diminishes: I do not have

to carry her like a baby,a child--I need not be " pregnant " with nada...nor do I

need to listen to her tapes or voice in my own head...Striving to just put her

down...)

>

> So said this KO...Thanks for posting this,.

>

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Doug--

I'M IN!!!

Can I have bourbon instead of pina coladas? I mean, for nada's night, we should

bring out the serious stuff.

Thanks for the idea!

> > > >

> > > > I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy

> childhoods

> > > > and ideal moms.

> > > > One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing

> as my

> > > > nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved

> into a

> > > > nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and

> financial

> > > > aspects of this.

> > > > One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> > > > Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just

> had

> > > > to share it.

> > > > It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why

> it is

> > > > so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> > > > your parent.

> > > > Here it is:

> > > >

> > > > Your Mother is Always with You

> > > > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> > > > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> > > > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> > > > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> > > > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> > > > She's the place you come from, your first home...

> > > > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> > > > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> > > > And nothing can seperate you.

> > > > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from

> your

> > > > mother.

> > > > You carry her inside of you.

> > > >

> > > >

> > > > Sent from my blueberry.

> > > >

> > >

> >

>

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, that was just perfectly and sadly awesome.

>

> ,I fully agree this is a perfect example of how difficult it would be to

explain what a nada is as opposed to a mother.It would give me the

creeps,too...as a reminder of the disconnect between what it all should have

been/could have been...and isn't/wasn't...

>

> Maybe we could add our own parentheses to Your Mother is Always with

You as a KO group therapy exercise? Like,as bitter or honest or as poignant as

we wanna be--no holds barred putting our *truth* to this...I hope you don't mind

the imposition--personally I can't resist..it's too much for me to let those

lines stand as they are...a la " thank you for sharing but I just need to say " ...

>

> What would be your corrective parentheses? Here are mine:

>

> >

> > Your Mother is Always with You (as an elusive image that never takes on real

maternal form)

> > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.(and the echo of

traumatic memories I'd sooner forget)

> > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.(which reminds me

of her " having to do all the housework " rages)

> > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.(in my imagination:

she never tended to me when I was sick)

> > Your mother lives inside your laughter,(often,gallows humor)

> > She's crystallized in every teardrop...(the few precious tears I manage to

shed since she beat the ability to cry out of me)

> > She's the place you come from, your first home...(a place I am still trying

to transcend,to find a healthier place to be in)

> > She's the map you follow with every step you take.(which has made me a mere

babe in the woods many times,as lost as Hansel and Gretel)

> > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...(a heartbreak that

perpetuates)

> > And nothing can seperate you.(NC *does* help)

> > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > mother.(actually,I intend for my NC to apply in the afterlife as well)

> > You carry her inside of you.(to my own detriment,but as I exorcise her from

my being the being parentified by her diminishes and diminishes: I do not have

to carry her like a baby,a child--I need not be " pregnant " with nada...nor do I

need to listen to her tapes or voice in my own head...Striving to just put her

down...)

>

> So said this KO...Thanks for posting this,.

>

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Kris, there was a brief time when my nada made a similar apology to me and later

said/did things that showed it meant nothing and she didn't even remember it.

Much like the note your nada wrote you. It's my theory in that brief moment she

briefly achieved higher functioning but she couldn't maintain it. She did

honestly seem a bit saner and have genuine empathy for all of one conversation.

Some might say it was fake and I got suckered. But I believe that really - they

do have mental illness - most of the time they cannot comprehend what they are

doing or its impact. I know that may not feel true to everyone here, but for

some it may apply.

> > > >

> > > > I am on another forum with women who apparently had happy childhoods

> > > > and ideal moms.

> > > > One time recently I mentioned some of the difficulty I am facing as my

> > > > nada's dementia worsens and she pulls more stunts and has moved into a

> > > > nursing home leaving me to deal with all the legalities and financial

> > > > aspects of this.

> > > > One of the women told me to just love her, yada yada.

> > > > Anyhoo, the following came into my inbox this morning and I just had

> > > > to share it.

> > > > It gives me the creeps! And I see it as a perfect example of why it is

> > > > so difficult to explain to normals about the trouble you have with

> > > > your parent.

> > > > Here it is:

> > > >

> > > > Your Mother is Always with You

> > > > She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

> > > > She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks.

> > > > She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

> > > > Your mother lives inside your laughter,

> > > > She's crystallized in every teardrop...

> > > > She's the place you come from, your first home...

> > > > She's the map you follow with every step you take.

> > > > She's your first love and your first heartbreak...

> > > > And nothing can seperate you.

> > > > Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > > > mother.

> > > > You carry her inside of you.

> > > >

> > > >

> > > > Sent from my blueberry.

> > > >

> > >

> >

> >

> >

>

>

>

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E, check out the thread I started a while back asking if others had problems

being haunted after the death of a parent. It's a fear for many of us. I found

the replies reassuring though. Now whether we are haunted in our own minds is

another matter, but there's always therapists to help with that.

>

> All of my creepy kidding aside, this line was the one that bothered me the

> most in this little poem. The thought that even after her death I will

> never be free of her legacy is frightening.

>

> E

>

>

> In a message dated 5/5/2010 8:18:22 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

> christine.depizan@... writes:

>

> Not time, not space, not even death will ever seperate you from your

> > mother.(actually, mother.(actually,<WBR>I intend for my NC to apply in

>

>

>

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