Mum Would Be So Mad At Me

When I get under that dark cloud I start thinking things that may be described as weird or strange. Or sometimes I focus on the past, as far back as I can remember. I try to remember my Dad and my early years. It's not always easy and the memories, even if good ones, tend to hurt.
When I was little I had real trouble understanding why my mum was angry with me. Strike that, not only when I was little but all my life really. Even when I knew I'd done something wrong it seemed to me that my mum should be there for me and not be angry, not ever, not at all, no matter what. That sounds a little strange to me now but it's just the way I've always felt. The confusion I felt as a child would keep me awake all night, worrying why my mum was so mad, but not really understanding. As an adult, I didn't make her mad so often, but I still had trouble understanding why. Once, she was so mad she told me to get out of her house and never come back. I was stunned, how could she say that, how could she be so mad. I hadn't even done anything, not me, I was only telling her what I knew. She had to tell me, or rather yell at me, three times before I got up and left. I didn't see her for five years. I felt hurt and betrayed, how could she be so mad at ME.
This week, for the first time since she died, I realised that if I saw her now, if I spoke to her now, she would be so mad at me. It's like I suddenly get it. I know the only thing that makes her mad at me is when it involves my little brother. All those times when I was younger, she got mad because I didn't play with him, I made him cry, I didn't stick up for him, I shouted at him, I told on him for doing wrong. Anything I did against my little brother made me the butt of her anger. I didn't hate my brother, I loved him because my mum loved him so much. I would have done anything for him. Even when I knew he did wrong I felt bad for him, and I felt bad for my mum who protected him when the whole world was against them. I couldn't help it even though they didn't deserve it.
When I made up with mum after the five years apart we had an unspoken deal that we did not talk about what had happened. And I refused to talk about my brother.
When she knew she was dying she asked me to look out for him.
I tried but it was hard, he knew what he wanted.
He killed himself.
I let mum down and if she saw me now, if she spoke to me now she would be so so so very angry with me.