My mom had it rough growing up.
This is my mom when I was not quite 3 y/o.
I'm sure there are those out there that had it rougher. But, let me tell you, there are SO many that can't imagine how she had it. And be glad for that if you, like me, are in that large group.
The early days- my mom is 27 y/o here (my older brother and I were 6 & 4 at the time).
I've heard tidbits over time... gees, for that matter, the bare facts are enough to make me shrivel up and want to go hide: one brother five years older, then she (my mom) arrived into the world, then another brother 3 years younger arrived. Just three months after the younger brother was born, the already absent father left and her parents divorced. Mix this with her mother being an alcoholic and emotionally/mentally unstable. A year or two later, add a remarriage of the alcoholic unstable mother to 'God Knows What' that abused my mom (and her mother). Around the time my mom was 5, she began to live with her blind grandmother (since the step dad was abusive and an alcoholic). BUT, they lived right next to each other in like a duplex that sat on top of one another... so only a stair-way separated them. Subsequently, at my mom's age of 7 or 8, this 'step dad' hung himself. Shortly afterwards, my mom went back to live with her mother.
Just about every summer, as I was growing up, we went to Colorado. We camped and often rode motorcycles.
So, from the time my mom was 5 years old, she *
living with her blind grandmother* had to do household chores that I just can't see a 5 year old doing; fixing meals, dishes,
ironing, etc...
at five years old. Yes, it was by far the better choice than living with her mother and the abusive husband. But...
gees... being
so responsible at five... for that matter 8 years old...
hard to fathom.
My mom on the Durango/Silverton Train in Colorado.
It's no wonder my mom became a nurse. You know, research shows that 80+ % of nurses come from alcoholic/abusive families ...interesting, they couldn't "fix it" when they were young, so they go into a field that tries to "fix" and becomes the bearer of the brunt of things... cause that's what nurses do.
POINT IS... my mom had it rough ...and, I assure you, this is only a sweet summary. My mom forgave her mother before she passed- told in my mom's words HERE. What a forgiving woman my mom is... she saw her mother for the wounded child she was.
Another thing, she (my mom) didn't repeat the cycle by getting with an abusive man. My dad has never laid a hand on my mom, nor has he ever been verbally abusive (talk about beating the odds ... kudos to my dad on this as well!). They've been married now for almost 44 years.
You know, I asked my mom what she was okay with me 'sharing'... her response was just to do what I thought was okay. I then asked myself what my aim was after all. After much consternation, the two thoughts that came to mind were:
- First, when one sees things about themselves in writing, somehow it's more real... it's like it holds more credence... if this makes sense. In that regard, it is my hope that maybe my mom can appreciate herself more and be more forgiving of herself in how she raised her children. She, after all, did a remarkable job.
- Second, who knows if her (my mom's) children's children (and theirs?) will someday read this. With technology and all (these blogs can be saved), it's like a history of sorts. I know I appreciate stories of my family's hardships. Makes one appreciate their own lot better.
Those are my reasons for 'sharing'.
Before I started typing the above, I had saved a post with a few short poems and sayings to post on Mom's Day. The text is still below. Though this post is lengthy, I'll go ahead and leave it... because the poets say it better than I can and I want my mom to hear it. Plus, the home video is kind of ? ... ? neat.
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I found so much good stuff searching for the *ultimate* Mom's Day poem. Alas, no one poem can summarize what a Mom is, does, gives, transmits, translates ....etc, etc... So many of them connotate so many different things. I figure a sundry of things just might touch the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
I use the term, "Mom", because that is what I call my dear one. For me, the term 'Mother' was not the name/word of choice. We all have symbolic meanings attached to things and, for me, that term isn't warm and fuzzy (perhaps it's because I remember my mom calling her alcoholic mom, "Mothhher"). Regardless, for me, it doesn't convey my feeling... so "Mom" it is. Consequently, since I was young, I have always put a line through the word 'Mother' on cards and whatnot and rewritten "Mom" over it.
On the poems below, I have included the authors names whenever I knew them. Please send a comment if you happen to know the author of any poem whose author is listed as unknown. And don't forget to turn you speakers on for the video.
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Untitled
There are times when only a Mother's love
Can share the joy we feel.
When something we've dreamed about
Quite suddenly is real.
There are times when only a Mother's faith
Can help us on life's way
And inspire in us the confidence
We need from day to day.
For a Mother's heart and a Mother's faith
And a Mother's steadfast love
Were fashioned by the Angels
And sent from God above.
~Author Unknown
Mother o' Mine
If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know whose love would follow me still,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
If I were drowned in the deepest sea,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know whose tears would come down to me,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
If I were damned of body and soul,
I know whose prayers would make me whole,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
~Rudyard Kipling
Wonderful Mother
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
~Pat O'Reilly
To My Mother
You too, my mother, read my rhymes
For love of unforgotten times,
And you may chance to hear once more
The little feet along the floor.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
This heart, my own dear mother, bends,
With love's true instinct, back to thee!
~Thomas Moore
And a couple of "Tru'isms"...
When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.
~Sophia Loren
We never know the love of the parent until we become parents ourselves.
~Henry Ward Beecher
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So, we (my family) have our three generations pics; my mom, my daughter, and I. My maternal grandmother passed before our daughter was born. However, in a small way, she still can hear her...
(For book purposes: the video that was posted is one of Emma sitting in, what is now, Clayton's closet that was full of stuff... including a talking picture frame that had Grandma's mom recorded on it saying 'I love you'.)
I am more blessed than words can say.
My cup runneth over.
HAPPY MOM'S DAY TO YOU!
LYM
