My mom is getting married, and other things I should be happy about but am not

My mom called me on my cell phone last night while I was out with my friend Amy. This is weird. My mom does not understand cell phones. She does not get any form of technology. It took her years to even get a microwave. Normally, she'll leave me 20 messages at home before she ever calls me on my cell. She also left a message, also odd, but even more striking was the fact that she sounded gleeful.

Since I haven't heard from my sister in several days (despite repeated attempts to contact her cell phone - I hate it when she cuts me out) I assumed we had finally gotten some good news about my nephews. Since I assumed, wrongly, that's what it was about, I called her back pretty much immediately. I avoid phone calls with my mom for many reasons: 1. I avoid all phone calls since phones are evil things which fill me with dread, 2. my mom never has good news, 3. she only calls when she wants or needs something, 4. I get stuck hearing about bible verses for 45 minutes. Need I go on?

So I call her back.

"Hi mom. What's up?"

"I'm getting married."

What? Wow. She sounded like a gleeful 7-year-old with an ice cream cone on the first day of summer.

"Ok. How did that happen?"

"He just asked me. We're getting married in 4 months. I can't believe we have to wait so long. Lissa is going to be my wedding coordinator. Obviously Kerrie doesn't want to help right now (yeah, mom, what was the big clue there? Her looming court battles or the fact that she can't see her kids?). I want you to come with me to come find a dress. But we can't do it tonight, because, well, obviously I'm already busy, and I can't do it tomorrow because we have to talk to the pastor and get everything set at the church. Next weekend we have to go."

What? Yeah... Wow.

"Um, congratulations mom?"

Before I dissect all that bothered me about the manic paragraph, let me give you some history, shall I?

My mom has a horrible history with men. Before my biological father, she only had a few boyfriends. She was a late bloomer. Raised in Catholic school, in a strictly Catholic family, where she was the oldest child of three, and a girl, and my grandfather was an Army man. To say my grandparents were protective of her might be an understatement. Her first few boyfriends were fairly innocent affairs, but already were predictive of her future of her chaotic interactions with men.

Then she met my father. Obviously, safe sex wasn't one of her strong suits. I am not really sure exactly what happened between my parents that facilitated the ultimate ending of their relationship, but I know her being pregnant with me played heavily into that. While she was pregnant, she got little as far as support from family or friends. My grandparents were much less than pleased that their un-wed, 23-year-old daughter was having premarital sex and got pregnant. I cannot imagine that conversation. Let's just say I'm really glad I never had to have it. Her best friend from College, Chris, was dating my father's best friend. She chose him (and married him within a couple years of this) and abandoned the friendship with my mother. She had to have felt completely alone. Knowing my mother as I do, I am sure people had their reasons, but I still feel bad for her. She barely knew how one got pregnant and there she found herself alone with a tiny baby growing in her.

At that point she turned to a church who took her in. I think one could call them radical born-again Christians. Not your every day Christians, but those that skewed and altered her every belief to beyond what any rational and sane person could possibly believe. The ones that prey on the weak. She fell in hook, line and sinker. She stayed deeply ingrained in the church until after I was born. At that point something happened. They turned their backs on her. I believe it was the unwed mother raising a child by herself thing. Fairly typical of what my experiences have been with churches - we'll give you all the answers straight from God's mouth until you don't do exactly as we say, at which point we'll pull your right to be a citizen of God's chosen flock.

After I was born followed a few tumultuous years where we moved all over town and my mom had boyfriends in and out of our lives. I, thankfully, have very little memory of all of this, but I retained enough. Including the live-in boyfriend, who came home one night asking for sex and my mom, who knew she was ovulating and didn't want risk another pregnancy (yeah, she wised up a little there) said no. He didn't take no for an answer. She became pregnant. Going against all of her beliefs, but knowing she could not be a good parent to another child at that point, decided to get an abortion. I'm not sure that's something many people know about my mom. I am actually quite proud of her decision. She knew she was not in a good place. She knew she could not raise another child. So she went against the principles she had been taught and believed to prevent that from happening. Again, it must have been insanely difficult. Again, she was alone. No one who knew supported her choice.

When I was 4, mom met my step-dad, Dan. He was 21, she was 28. He was a nice, kind man. He really was. The first time we met, he got down on the floor and colored with me. He was not a talkative person and used his words, of praise or discontent, very sparingly. Within three months of meeting they were married. I was there. They got married at the Fairport Town Court, in front of a Justice of the Peace. No one in the family knew what she was doing, or approved of their getting married. That was my mom. She always followed the beat of her own drum, regardless of what anyone else though. All of her kids appear to have gotten that personality trait.

Their marriage had a few rough patches early on, but never anything they couldn't work through. My dad was a truck driver and was on the road for days at a time. When my sister's (the youngest two, if you're having a hard time following my family tree) were born, it was questioned whether he would be able to be there. He was. If my parent's had hard times, I wasn't really aware of them. They rarely fought or raised their voices. They were affectionate with one another. He was stable for her. She... kept things interesting. It worked for 17 years. Until it didn't.

I was in grad school in Michigan at 23 when I got the phone call from my mom that my dad had left. He came home in the middle of the day, packed his stuff, turned off all the utilities in the house (that were in his name), and left. No note. No explanation. Nothing. My sister's called my mom when they got home from school. It was March. They were 10 and 11. There was no heat in the house. There was no electricity. My mom was heartbroken and devastated. She had no idea of his plans. She never got an explanation. All we know is that within a few months of their divorce being final, he was remarried. This caused many issues for my sisters and I, but we're focusing on my mom now.

Since the divorce my mom has dated here and there, but mostly she's gotten re-involved heavily with the same wacky church she was in before. Now, granted, I've never attended services with her - because nothing could drag me there - so I don't know if what they are teaching is that bizarre or whether my mom takes everything and makes it's insane. She has told me that she has actual sit down conversations with Jesus. They chat. He tells her which direction to go. I can only think of it as her version of the psychic friend's hotline, as the advice she "receives" is usually bizarre and counter intuitive to rational thought.

So imagine our thrill when she met Bill through some sort of divorced parents thing sponsored by the church. He has always been nice enough to me. He's socially awkward to the point of being weird. I don't really dislike him, but I barely know him. My mom believes they have been dating for 6 years, however, from an outsiders viewpoint, he comes around when he wants some lovin' and then disappears again for months at a time. He just did not appear interested and my mom refused to take a hint because God told her that "he is the one" and that she had to just be patient. She was. Absurdly so. He showed her no attention and gave her no indication that he was really interested. She persisted. I guess a couple months ago she got fed up and gave him an ultimatum. Basically, piss or get off the pot. She wanted to be married as soon as humanly possible, move into his house, and quit her job. I guess he decided it was now or never. He proposed yesterday.

I don't know much about Bill, but what I do know concerns me. He is a recovering alcoholic. He has 5 grown children, several of whom have no contact with him due to the circumstances from his first divorce. He has a history of depression. He's a member of my mom's church. My mom's history with men is also a concern. She gets overly absorbed in their lives and loses herself. She's willing to give up a job where she's almost vested into a pension plan to stay home and be his wife. She's willing to move an hour away from her family to live with him. Basically, she's giving up her life to be in his.

I'm terrified for my mom. Some of it's selfish. I don't want to go through another divorce with her. I don't want to go through another heartbreak at her side. I don't want to again be the one picking up the pieces. The other part is for her. If she gives up everything she'll be unable to support herself. None of her children can offer her a place to stay. None of us are financially secure and able to assit her out. She will be totally and completely dependent on a man which I am not sure deserves her love and affection. I don't trust him not to break her heart.

So, when she called yesterday to give me this news, I felt panic and dread fill my body. It was a physical reaction more than an emotional one. My mom's selfish needs are again going to put strain on her family. She is totally tuned out the terrible crap already going on in our lives to focus exclusively on... this. If I were a loving and supportive daughter I'd just help her, right? I'd wish for the best and wish her years of happiness in marital bliss. I am having a hard time doing that. I know reality. In my mom's case, things usually end in disaster.

I don't want to condemn my mother. I love her. She was, for the most part, the best mom she could be to me. I've forgiven any of her trangressions toward abusive insanity. I make allowances for, "Oh, it's just mom being herself again." But how long can one do that before losing hope? I can't be her safety net anymore. I have my own issues to be concerned about. My own life that at times feels like it's falling apart around me. My mom should be the one here for me, helping me figure out the pieces, but instead, that's always been my role. I can't do it this time.