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Originally Posted by TishaBuv
She's ok, thanks. Of course, she had a fight with the anesthesiologist. Who does that? Not wise to fight with the person about to hold your life in their hands!
She's her own worst enemy really. Smart and stupid.
She's said such amazingly abusive things to me and my sisters, and then when confronted with what she said, she denies ever having said it. Or she said "and I'd say it again".
But she's done so many acts of loving kindness, really.
I'm sorry you had such pure negativity you never looked back.
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I'm glad she's OK.
My mom loved us very much; worked very hard. She was very strict and gave me very little privacy but her intentions were good. I was just more rebellious than my sister and a bit of a "tomboy" in some ways. She could never understand that I would go out the door sometimes without applying lipstick or brushing my hair. My mom and my sister were the types that hated to have the car windows down for fear it would mess up their hair. I loved going with my dad hunting and on trips into the forest to gather wood for the winter (my dad sawed, I carried it to the pickup truck). We had a cabin in that place since I was 5. The neighbor was building his house all by himself. He loved me because I would jump up in the morning, run over there and want to carry his tools for him all day long. I was thrilled to hold the tape measure whenever he needed to measure. Remember loving cowboy boots prior to 5 because they had no laces; I could get outside faster.
When we moved up there permanently, I had a horse. It was supposed to be my mom's but it bucked her off and she was afraid to ride it (partly because it really did injure her). I was bucked off on a regular basis but still rode it all of the time (young, flexible bones can take it). My sister would never take a chance like that in a million years. Sometimes, in high school, she would worry I was taking drugs though I didn't even drink then. She had good manners and was careful about her appearance.
I think lots of kids are ready to leave when they graduate high school and I simply picked the university that was the farthest away in my state (5 hour drive) plus I was a summer exchange student that summer and went into the miltary after I graduated from college. So, I WAS trying to get away when I graduated high school but life just sort of conspired in such a way that I never returned home ever again for more than about three weeks (even right before her death). It was more like she drove me crazy rather than feeling totally negative about the kind of person she was. She cared about us a lot just like your mom did.