notalone, I think that very likely is the root of my vague feelings of wishing that she would die. Just not having to think about whether I want to try again with her, whether I'll see her at Thanksgiving, whether she will become a burden to my brother if (when) her visibly withering 92-year-old husband dies, what effect that will have on my relationship with him, whether he'll even stick around for it. I think my real wish is not so much for her immediate death but that somehow she will predecease the man I used to call my stepfather, who never deserved even that title, but who deserves a modicum of gratitude from me for the 50+ years he has allowed my mother to live safely in the world, much the way that My Person has allowed me (I have wondered whether she will even be able to survive without him, the same way I often wonder whether I could survive without My Person). He joined in my persecution when I was a child, but as an adult, his relationship with her has served to keep her largely out of mine and my brother's hair. I remember a conversation she and I once had in which she said that she wanted them both to live for another 20 years and then die at the same time. That conversation occurred around 15 years ago. I guess I can fairly benevolently hope she gets that wish, although I kind of wouldn't mind moving the timetable up a bit.
arale, that's really deep! Thank you for sharing. I don't know whether my mother has ever done anything good for me. I've been asking myself that question for a while now, and haven't come up with a meaningful answer. Still, though, that's a very good way to look at it, and something that I will have to think about. I can see where it would be helpful. I don't think she WANTS to be released from her unhappy life, I think that she's both narcissistically terrified of dying and pretty firmly devoted to being unhappy, but maybe once she's dead I'll be able to think fondly of whatever bits of her are endearing to me (I know there must be some because sometimes I do still really miss visiting her during the summer to take a walk on the boardwalk and swim at the pool) without my gut starting to churn from the conflict between affection that I do ruefully have for her and my knowledge that I cannot get any of her goodness without also getting doses of her poison. Part of me wishes that my mother would die already, and part of me really REALLY wishes that I could just visit with her for an afternoon without getting sick afterward. It's confusing!
