G’morning FS!
My mother died holding fast to the declaration that she didn’t want or love me, as did my father. They both loved my two younger brothers but they never wanted a girl - especially one who wasn’t remotely like either of them. If it weren’t for DNA and physical resemblence, I’d have believed they found me on the doorstep.
As a mother and grandmother myself, I’ve never been able to wrap my mind around the concept of not loving one’s own children. There are times when I could like them better for a day or two perhaps, but not to love them is beyond my comprehension.
As it happens, neither one one of my parents left me anything material, but I didn’t expect they would, and all I ever wanted was for them to love me. I guess you can’t have everything. I’m grateful to have been graced with a family of my own and a husband whose love I’ve never had to question. Were it not for them, I might have believed the heartbreaking remarks my parents continually made to and about me right up until last year, when my mother died. I’m uncertain why we need and want the love and approval of our parents, but I’ve yet to meet anyone to whom that need doesn’t apply.
My father called me sporadically, maybe half a dozen times over forty-five years. My mother called me four times in her life - twice because she was in intolerable pain, once when she needed me to drive her to the hospital, and once when my baby died. She didn’t visit his grave - ever, but at least she called. (After saying to me, upon learning I was pregnant, ‘I’ll never love your children.’ )
I called her three or four times a month when we lived far apart, which was most of the time, and when we lived closer to her, when my children were small, I took my kids to see her and my father at least a couple of times a week. She did the same thing with my kids - there was one she didn’t like - and I threatened her with the loss of them all if she didn’t cease treating that child as she treated me. She didn’t care for the ultimatum, as I never spoke disrepectfully to my parents, but she was nicer to my daughter after that, thank God!
My solution to the pain their rejection caused me was to choose to love them anyway. I learned quickly that love doesn’t have to be reciprocated to matter. 
I hope this helps someone ‘out there.’
FWIW - Jesse.
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