Oy vey, did any of us have a Mom who knew how to mother? I'd been beating my head agaist her brick wall of patterns for 56 years-- just had a breakthrough this summer..Yeehaaa. It happened like this: I'm the only one in my family who has copped to having problems and gotten help.... in and out of therapy for 36 years now. They don't ever ask anything about my "conditions", heck, they don't ask questions about anything. Just plod along in their ruts, functional or not... it's beyond me, "the curious one". When I was a kid and sick with migraines and an ulcer (since age 8), I wasn't even allowed to tuck a hand into my waisteband, over my aching belly, to comfort myself-- it upset my father. (The major cause of my predicament.) I always played by the rules. Nomatter how good I was, she couldn't love me how I needed to be loved. I felt like a thorn in her side rather than a beloved child. YUK. Over these many years, I've coped better or worse, but always had a big lump of sadness in my heart around this "Mom stuff". This summer my 'crazy" nephew became a Dad. (My brother never got him help because my brother "had it uder control"-- yeh, right.) Anyhow, there's a lot of undealtwith kaka in the air around this nephew. When Mom went to visit my brother, my nephew, his partner, and brand new great granddaughter baby drove up to connect with Mom and have her meet the baby. When I spoke to her after her trip, she didn't say anything about good (or bad) the baby. Not "She was cute" not "I held her" not nothing. On the other hand, when my "good" niece (my sister's kid), had her two daughters, Mom went on and on about "how special" they were. BLAM WHACK WHAM it hit me: The info I needed, the keythat set me free: If she can't love that brand new little great granddaughter, fresh out of the oven, unconditionally, it's no wonder she can't love me. She just can't. I'm starting to get over the want. I decided to challenge her about how little she had to say about the baby. Busted her bad. Oooww, she denied everything BUT she cleaned up her act and said some nice things about the little bundle. Mostly nothing changed, except: I set a line in the sand and she recognized it. Made me feel good and strong, if not loved. . .