Here's Where I Get Guilt Tripped....

.....Otherwise titled, An Open Letter To My Kid Sister.

When you texted me earlier today and called me a jerk for not calling our mother on Mother's Day, you were absolutely right.  When you texted me back and called me a "crappy son", you were again absolutely right.  When you told me you shouldn't have to deal with Mom's crap because of me, you were, again, absolutely right.

And yet, at the same time, you were absolutely wrong.

Here's the thing:  I cannot argue that I'm not going to win "Son of the Year" anytime soon where our mother is concerned.  You can count all the holidays and birthdays of hers that I haven't called or written.  You can also count the times that I probably should have picked up the phone and given her a call and didn't.  Okay? I'll cold grant you that, on face value, those things make me an absolute shit son.

Hell, all things being considered equal, I've been a complete douche of a big brother, too.  A lot of the people who read this blog and are friends of mine on Facebook remember how excited I was the day you were born.  I even went to the hospital while Mom was in labor with you so I could be among the first to give you a welcome into the world.  For most of your first two years on planet Earth, I saw you as often as I could.  And in the past nearly 22 years, unfortunately I think I can count on two hands the number of times I've seen you.  Do I regret that?  You're damn right I do.  But, that's for another time, and, frankly, that's a conversation you and I need to have face to face, preferably over a couple of beers.

I told you when we texted that there were a lot of things you didn't know and that I was trying to keep you out of, and I meant what I said.  However, it's only fair to bring them up since we're on the subject, and I only ask that you keep an open mind about this.....

You have to understand that my relationship with Mom was shaky before she got pregnant with you.  It goes back to there being a lot of weekends that I'd go to spend time with her and instead spent time with one friend or the other coming over to spend the night because she was "going out" with one friend or another.  Don't get me wrong:  she always liked my friends and made sure the house was pretty well stocked with food and sodas before she left.  But, when you go to spend time with your Mom and don't get to spend time with her, it kinda sucks.  What sucks worse than that were the nights I spent by myself at age 11 and 12 at her house because she went out and I couldn't get anyone to come over.  Yeah, I could keep myself entertained, but, again, I wanted to spend time with HER, not by myself.

Worse than that, and what really started to cause, on my end anyway, the rift in our relationship were the weekends I sat around my Dad's house waiting for her to call me and tell me that she was coming to pick me up for the weekend.  I can't tell you how many times I sat there virtually in tears because I'd been sitting around all weekend waiting for her to call, but she never did, or, if she did, it would be on Sunday to apologize and tell me she couldn't come get me this weekend "but I will next weekend."  Of course, half the time we'd have the same issue the following weekend.

Look, as an adult I know that some of the issues were due to her depression, which I feel sorry for you to have to have dealt with by yourself at way too early an age.  That's another of the reasons why I feel like such a shithead for not being there for you more when you were younger.  But, having my heart broken multiple times at that/those ages really hurt, and it hurt enough for there to be a great deal of resentment towards her for a very long time.

When she got pregnant with you, our relationship began to improve.  I'd wanted a little brother or sister for as long as I could remember, and the thought of you coming along made me push aside all the issues I had, because I wanted to try to make things work for you.  And, for awhile, it did.

I'm not going to bad mouth anyone for why our relationship got rocky again, because there's blame to be passed to both sides.  I got older, went off to college, and started living my life, and I didn't contact Mom the way I should have.  I'll admit that.  But, I also believe a telephone works two ways, and she didn't exactly burn up the lines to try to talk to me.

Unfortunately, the one who paid for that was you, and I wish I could take all of that hurt and anger you have away, but I know I can't.  You grew up knowing you had a brother, and there have been several times you've reached out to me, and while I've kept the connection for awhile, I always seem to let it slip away, and that's on me.  I give you full credit for trying to keep things going, and I take all the blame for being an asshole.  I can't dodge that one.

Where our mother is concerned?  I have a lot of feelings about her that I have to work out.  I know she, at nearly 60, and me, at nearly 40, are too fucking old to keep going through this shit, and that I need to put on my big boy pants and get the fuck past it, especially with my father having been gone for 6 years.

It's something I want to do.  It's something I swear I'm going to do.  But, somehow, I keep falling short.

What can I say?  I love you both very dearly, and I still to this day talk about you as much as I can to anyone who will sit still long enough to listen.  I show your pictures from Facebook to all my friends, and brag about how you're far better than I ever was or probably ever will be.  I admit that I can and need to do more, and while my promises don't carry a whole lot of weight with you, I can only promise you that I'll try to be better about it.

All that I ask is that you see my side, cut me a little extra slack (though I get it that I probably don't deserve it), and give me that kick in the nuts I need from time to time.

After all, I've said many a time you are far ballsier than I am, and one tough cookie.

Love you, kid.