Dear Little Me...
I really like your blonde hair, daddy cut it so the fringe is a bit lop sided. You do try and smile a lot , but your intuitive nature gives you a worried look.
I hate to see your brow creased, I want to part your fringe and kiss your forehead. I want to tell you that everything is OK, and although mummy says she wants to “go to sleep and never wake up”. Don’t worry, it won’t happen.
At five years of age, your “mummy” is your truth. You look to her for your security, and love, you feel alone and frightened. Does anybody know how you feel? You carry your insecurities about life, that you feel that your mummy’s happiness is your responsibility.
You do what you can for her - I can see that. You keep her really close. You hang on to her and watch her like a hawk. Even when you go round the prefabs on your orange three wheeler. Your favourite dolly in the basket behind you, you are thinking “is mummy alright while I am gone”? and will she be there when I return”?
I’m sorry Wendy. You had to soak up all this negativity and misery when you should have been out smiling at the sun, and soaking up the wonder of life.
So. I do understand why in later life you continued this caring and rescuing of those around you. But remember you have needs - you have the right to your freedom.
You have always gone the extra mile for your own children. You married a depressed man, because you knew no different; you accepted the way he treated you - it was what you were used to. Despite this, you succeeded to give your children the love and security needed, especially when their father took his own life.
With hindsight, I can now see why your childhood was so difficult. Your “mummy” was told, as a child, by her mummy, that she tried to destroy her life before she was even born. Having given birth to a still born daughter, she must have been filled with fear that it would happen again and at forty four years of age, she didn’t want anymore children. Can you imagine how that made her feel? So try to forgive her. She was left to feel unwanted and unloved. There was no regards for her feelings and things were said to her that damaged her. She couldn’t cope with being a mummy herself; nobody had showed her how.
I asked your mummy, towards the end of her life, what would be her advice for life, having lived for eighty seven years. She said “I have spent the whole of my life worrying about things, but it had made no difference”. I guess, she was saying that you cannot control the life of others, what will be will be.
Ok, little Wendy, get back on your three wheeler, I will watch you cross the road safely. It is my job to look after you, for I am your mummy. I will look out for you when you return. Have a lovely time.
If only, if only…..
I love you.
