Reader’s Digest used to run a popular series entitled “The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met.”
For me, it’s no contest.
My most “unforgettable character” had to be my mother, Lea Roffe.
Hands down.
And this past Tuesday, October 16, would have been my mother’s 94th birthday.
(If she hadn’t deliberately offed herself at the age of 92 – because she was pissed that her driving privileges had been revoked.)
See what I mean? She’s already a character and you probably didn’t even know her.
Unless you were a croupier or a dealer in Las Vegas or at Rivers.
While she was alive, it was hard to be objective about her.
She was a character straight out of grand opera- fiery temper, breath-taking beauty, crack card-player, clever intelligence and wild ambition all mixed up in a tempestuous package of dynamite.
She was jealous and petty, a grudge-holder. Combative and ridiculously competitive.
Une agente provocatrice.
Boy, did she love attention.
The only problem was that she couldn’t tell negative attention from positive attention and she would force you to engage with her by hook or crook.
If she thought she was being ignored for even one minute, she would start making outrageous – and incredibly mean- remarks about friends or family members just to get a rise out of you.
No topic was sacred. And if you did manage to tune out her outrageous pronouncements, she would “up the ante” until at last you were screaming at her. In public, sadly.
A real monster.
Time has not mellowed out my recollections or unhappy memories of the life and death mano à mano struggle in which she and I were engaged.
She never liked me much. I was too argumentative and not pliant enough to bend to her almighty will. My earliest memories are always of this mother/daughter battle royale. But she fought for the fun of it. I fought to keep my identity alive.
And yet…
I can’t help but smile when I think of her.
Now that she’s gone and I don’t have to defend myself any more, I can sit back and remember some of her good traits.
Like how unique she was.
Like how ambitious she was for her children. How she never gave up until she had her way.
How she always thought I could do anything.
And what fun she could be when she was in the right mood and before the demon of mental illness overtook her mind and twisted into her a dark exaggeration of herself.
She loved my brother. And I like to think she would have loved me, too- if she only knew how.
Happy birthday, Mom.
I know wherever you are you’re kicking ass and taking names.
Now here’s the ending I wish that we both could have had.
Exactly. Amen. xo
Yep.
Too soon!
Yes, Kenny Good Boy. Mom always liked you best.
Well done. Time has given you perspective – not wiped out your memories. Happy Birthday Mrs. R.
Thank you, Joan. She was quite a handful but we owe her a debt of gratitude, just the same. Love you. 😘
Lovely tribute to your Mother on her 94th birthday. If you hadn’t mentioned dealers and croupiers in Las Vegas, you could have been describing my Mother gone 10 years now. I prefer the first 30 years with Mom and not particularly the last 35. However, I thank her for my full head of hair, blue eyes and teaching me how to decorate.
Thanks, Rick. Yes, Time can give us perspective on the bad- and the good. Important to remember it all.
OMG….My Mom to a tee…
Except for I was Ken like to her..’Thanks for the memories.
Nice
You have my sympathies, Dave. But our “difficult” mothers had their good points and I hope I always remember that, as well.
Sympathies and congratulations to me!
her motto…and Hunter Thompsons
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!”
She had a great ride
And she contributed one great guy to the planet. Thanks, Dave. Great epitaph.
Ellen… time has mellowed you and that’s wonderful. She loved you in “her” way… it might not have been how you wanted to be loved but it was the best she could give… so glad the positive can surface ❤️
You’re a sweetheart to take the time to say that, Betsy. I am not convinced but I hope you are right.
I think many of us could spend a couple hours together discussing who was the favorite child in our families. I certainly heard about it often from clients who were not the favorite child in their families. Sometimes it had to do with being independent and headstrong, or the opposite. Sometimes it had to do with gender, often with males (or sometimes females) being the favorite children. Sometimes it had to do with sibling position (my baby brother was perfect). We looked for patterns in the family tree and in most cases found a similar pattern for at least a generation or two. It’s usually not personal and it very often says much more about the parent than it does about children who are not the favored ones. I think this is certainly the case with your mother.
Since there were seven of us children, it was a little more difficult to figure out who or which children were the favorites. My parents were good about not being obvious with any preferences they had. Although, in my generation there was much more focus on my brothers at least academically than my sister and me, which bothered me. Definitely a sign of the times! I secretly think I was my dad’s favorite but he wasn’t one to show favoritism so it’s not something I benefited from growing up.
Often times relationships between mothers and daughters and between fathers and sons are more difficult growing up as each wishes for their same sex child to reach the same level of achievement or beyond as they did and each hopes they won’t make the same mistakes they did growing up. There are several books out there written about mother daughter relationships so clearly it’s not an uncommon problem.
While I recognize your difficult relationship with your mother had to hurt, I have no doubt it says far more about her than you. I also think parents usually love all their children, even equally the ones who are more difficult to get along with (I was a difficult child at times). I love all my children (three) equally even though often one or two are easier to get along with at times than the other one or two. I work hard at appreciating the unique strengths of each even when one of those strengths can be frustrating to me at times.
I’d say put your mother’s preference for your brother back on her and believe she loved you just as much as she did him but for some reason of her own couldn’t show it. She had enough issues of her own that she might not have even been capable of coping with and showing love to more than one child so she focused on the easier and more compliant child.
I like what Betsy said. I’ve had to tell many people your parent or parents loved you as much as they were capable of loving a child. And some of their parents had what appeared to be zero capability. I also had to tell many people that how a parent treats a child usually has nothing to do with love. Often there is little or no difference in how much the abusive or neglectful parent loves their child compared to the parent who treats their children in loving healthy ways.
Gosh, I hope this helps. I’ve had to do my own work on this issue for myself, too, along with helping so many others who shared their hurt with me in my office.
Thank you, Dr. Alexander! I feel much better. Send me your bill for the session. 😊