Friday, February 17, 2017

Every Day is Mothers Day

Memories I cherish.

Middle and high school was not especially happy for me. We were dealing with the abandonment by our father, were fairly poor, had to leave the only home I had ever known and found ourselves a family of 3 that had once been 8. We did not have a driver until I turned 16 (my mom did not learned to drive until she was 52) and were at the mercy of family members to get us to wherever the bus would not. For quite awhile, my poor mother would take 3 buses to work at a fire restoration company. She would get a group of workers together, go to a home that had had a fire, then she and her team would pack the house from top to bottom. She basically moved every single day and then took 3 buses home again. Lordy my heart ached for her.

She often came home, blackened with ash and soot, then head straight for the bathroom. Once she got settled in the tub, I would come and sit on the pot and we would chat; sometimes a lot and sometimes a little, depending on how tired she was. I would paint my nails or complain about school. She would have a small towel that she would dip in the water and then lay it over the front of her to keep warm. By the time she finished the water was a muddy gray.

How alone she must have felt...the weight of a family on the shoulders of a woman that had not been educated and had never had a job until my father left. I have worked since I was 16. I know fully well that I can support myself and, even so, there are times when I wish there was someone who just take care of me. It must have been so overwhelming for her.

I loved those times. I was a teenager filled with an angst that would rear its ugly head during those conversations but, for the most part, it was just comforting. We were both damaged and hurting people, she betrayed by the man that she loved so much and me, a little girl whose father didn't care enough to even make sure she had food in the cupboard or fridge. Nevertheless, we were a family that could count on each other and we still are.

I miss those lovely conversations with a person who loved me completely unconditionally. I miss having a person in this world that loves me like that now. I miss being able to express the darker side of me without worry that I will be judged or rejected.

I miss that wonderful woman every single day but some days more than others because I am still that self absorbed teenager at times. Not often, thank goodness, but once in awhile.

8 comments:

  1. Your Mom sounds like she was a strong and resilient woman, as indeed most women must be to survive and thrive.

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    1. Stronger than I realized at the time. Now, being in similar shoes, I have an empathy that I was too young and self absorbed to have at the time. Lord, there are times I could use her wisdom and then I remember, it's inside of me if I just take the time to listen.

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  2. Curious...the math didn't add up. A family of 8 into a family of 3. Who left besides your dad? Pardon my rudeness...I'm just curious. You can tell me it's none of my F-ing business, I'm ok with that. Love, Lolly

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    1. Ask away! My dad and oldest sister moved out fairly close together. Soon after my next two sisters married and left and finally my older brother was given the to choice of military or Juvie. He chose military and they shipped him to Germany. That left my mom, me and my little bro.

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  3. Wow. Your mom no doubt felt broken and weary but she obviously had strength. This is a story her grandchildren need to know.

    I know the longing of missing your mom. There is a void left, isn't there?

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    1. There really is Birdie. Irreplaceable. I've said it before but I am grateful for the longing. So many of my friends did not have close relationships with their mothers and cannot really relate.

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  4. Your mom sounds like a remarkable woman. What a lovely tribute to her!

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    1. Thank you Martha. She was indeed a remarkable lady.

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