I have never really been close to my mother. We have had some really great moments but never close. My sisters have a closer relationship with her. I know there is a bit of choice that goes into that so why do I choose not to be close? The first mentioning of my mother wasn't a pretty picture (Just read the opener...though the rest is pretty cool too >.<) Well, here is a little mommy background
The Good
My mom was a young mother. She had her first child, big brother, at 17 and was pregnant and nursing for five years of her life! Wow... Sometimes when I see women on the bus with multiple children, I think of my mother so I don't judge. Then again most of the kids I see have snotty noses, dirty clothes, and are misbehaving. We were never like that. We always looked nice and were well behaved. My mother had a lot of help.
I grew up with my great grandfather (grand-daddy), and his two daughters, aunty and grandma, my mother's mother. They were originally from down south so we had a bit of a Southern upbringing, spankings and all. My mom is not the best housekeeper so the floor of the room that we all shared (execpt big brother, he slept with grand-daddy) was covered with a foot and a half worth of clothes. Sometimes that was fun, most times it was a pain in the ass and embarrassing (we never had our friends over)! We still had a good childhood despite the mess.
Our grandparents raised us and taught us life lessons while mom was working. It was not easy for my mother having all those kids. She worked her butt off to give us was we needed and we didn't want for nothing. We were truly blessed. When I was five, my mother gave us a new baby brother from step dad and then another one five years later and then one more eight years later. My mom is crazy for having so many kids. The only one she planned was the last one and he is spoiled rotten in bad way!
I grew up with my great grandfather (grand-daddy), and his two daughters, aunty and grandma, my mother's mother. They were originally from down south so we had a bit of a Southern upbringing, spankings and all. My mom is not the best housekeeper so the floor of the room that we all shared (execpt big brother, he slept with grand-daddy) was covered with a foot and a half worth of clothes. Sometimes that was fun, most times it was a pain in the ass and embarrassing (we never had our friends over)! We still had a good childhood despite the mess.
Our grandparents raised us and taught us life lessons while mom was working. It was not easy for my mother having all those kids. She worked her butt off to give us was we needed and we didn't want for nothing. We were truly blessed. When I was five, my mother gave us a new baby brother from step dad and then another one five years later and then one more eight years later. My mom is crazy for having so many kids. The only one she planned was the last one and he is spoiled rotten in bad way!
The fondest memories of my mother from my childhood are mostly nice. She would take us all over the city. Going downtown was a big deal for most black kids but we did it so regularly, it was a way of life. We went to every free city event there was. Even when we didn't have money, our mom would find ways to have fun. Tons of picnics and trips to the play ground and beach. We loved playing piggy in the back of our house and my mom always hit the ball out of the lot! We were huge white sox fans so we went to a lot of games. Sometimes my mom would fry chicken and bring it right into the park! We love to go to six flags and ride all of the rides. My mom loved horror movies and she didn't want us to be scared of shit that wasn't real so she trained us in the way of gore! I <3 zombies!
We had a picture of Jesus on the wall and he was white of course. I asked my mom if God was white and she told me he was any color I wanted him to be. So, God is purple (sorry to burst your bubble if you thought other wise). My mother told me I can be whoever I wanted to be and she would still love me. She told me I could be gay and it wouldn't matter. She told me never to abort a baby and that she would help me raise a child...not that she would be ecstatic about it (my poor big sister tried that one out).
She always had us doing art at home like making christmas ornaments, sewing clothes, and crocheting (crocheting is what my mother and I share the most and the only time we bond). She was an eighties hippie so I have fond memories of watching her work in the kitchen while dancing with us and singing to us Madonna, Bon Jovi or Prince. She sent us to different high schools. She accommodated my love for school and knew I was already hard enough on myself about most things. She really knew who I was. She let us choose our faith and I always thought that was cool. Those are my best mommy memories.
She always had us doing art at home like making christmas ornaments, sewing clothes, and crocheting (crocheting is what my mother and I share the most and the only time we bond). She was an eighties hippie so I have fond memories of watching her work in the kitchen while dancing with us and singing to us Madonna, Bon Jovi or Prince. She sent us to different high schools. She accommodated my love for school and knew I was already hard enough on myself about most things. She really knew who I was. She let us choose our faith and I always thought that was cool. Those are my best mommy memories.
The Bad
My mother lies well, not pathologically, but well. She is damn good at it. I have seen her lie to so many people, including her family and people effing believe her. She makes it look like an art. I hate this part of her and big brother picked up her skill though not as clean. I use to hate it when she was lying to me or the family. I could see it in her eyes and still can. I wonder if anyone else could. Most of the time it was little things but I was against lying not matter the topic. She didn't realize how seeing her lie would hurt me. She only thought about the moment. Lying to your kids about important shit is bad. Little white lies will drown away. Lying in front of your kids to other people...now that is something interesting and as I said, my mom is pro!
Now while I think her lying is bad, let me just share one of the best lies my mother ever told. We, mommy, the two sisters, and I, were in Tinley Park enjoying ourselves at a Backstreet Boys concert when we lit some sparklers during one of the songs. Then boom, security came to us and asked us to step out for a minute. We didn't understand at first. We were lead to some security office and toward the entrance. They were going to kick us out for using sparklers. WTF!!
We were so sad, like on the verge of tears but not to fear. My mom was on them like white on rice. She had them convinced she was apart of security at Comiskey Park or knew someone there. Now, our bags were searched when we came in and they saw the fucking sparklers. She informed them of this and commented on how shitty their security was followed by a threat of reporting them to someone (I think it was the head of security at Comiskey Park and she called this guy by his name). Next thing I know, all of these dudes looked like they were going to shit their pants. We were then escorted back into the concert by security and treated pretty VIP afterwards.
We were so sad, like on the verge of tears but not to fear. My mom was on them like white on rice. She had them convinced she was apart of security at Comiskey Park or knew someone there. Now, our bags were searched when we came in and they saw the fucking sparklers. She informed them of this and commented on how shitty their security was followed by a threat of reporting them to someone (I think it was the head of security at Comiskey Park and she called this guy by his name). Next thing I know, all of these dudes looked like they were going to shit their pants. We were then escorted back into the concert by security and treated pretty VIP afterwards.
They story is vague but I use to love seeing my mom in action like that. She could get whatever she wanted. Most of the people at the concert were wondering what happened to us. My sister said outloud that we had an important phone call, lol. Good times. Now, to the poor part. We were stuck in Tinley Park for the night. No money for a hotel or cab and mommy didn't drive. We slept at the train station on the benches. Eventually we went to a little diner. Mommy didn't have much money but we ordered a sandwich that we all split. Best turkey sandwich I ever ate. I cant still taste it! We made the best of a bad situation and my mom was/is kinda good at that. Besides, who could be pissed about sleeping outside after a BSB concert? Mommy was there too and I know no one would try anything with her around. She would go hard as a motherfucker!
The Ugly
Here is where is gets tricky for me. I was really pissed at my mom about the whole molestation issue. I may blog about that later. That story pretty much goes: A repressed memory of being molested by an older cousin on my bio dad's side of the family resurfaced while riding the bus with my ex as he asked me about my sexual history. All of a sudden these memories started fucking with my head so I tried to talk to my mom about it. I thought what I was telling her would be news to her since I know any parent would not subject his/her child to an environment in which the child is being violated/harmed. On the contrary, the first words out of my mother's mouth after I confessed the atrocity were, "I already knew."
WTF?!?!?!?!? You gotta be kidding me, right? Turns out she knew something happened or was happening but I suppose she didn't know details. She didn't know it was happening to me...but she knew something happened to little sister. At the time of her suspicions or facts, he told bio dad about it and he accused her of lying so I suppose she dropped it? Either way, why didn't she ever ask us? So many questions came to mind but I was just pissed. We ended up arguing a bit toward the end of the convo because I told her she didn't understand or know what I was going through, something along those lines. She then proceeded to physically attacking me while confessing to being raped by none other than dear old bio dad.
WTF?!?!?!?!? You gotta be kidding me, right? Turns out she knew something happened or was happening but I suppose she didn't know details. She didn't know it was happening to me...but she knew something happened to little sister. At the time of her suspicions or facts, he told bio dad about it and he accused her of lying so I suppose she dropped it? Either way, why didn't she ever ask us? So many questions came to mind but I was just pissed. We ended up arguing a bit toward the end of the convo because I told her she didn't understand or know what I was going through, something along those lines. She then proceeded to physically attacking me while confessing to being raped by none other than dear old bio dad.
Hold the mayo... What???? So, now it's about her and I should feel bad for her? My mom had four kids with bio dad. She kept trying to keep him by having his children but it didn't work. My first thought was, which one of us was the result of the rape? I did feel badly for her as I would any woman. Especially a woman who has children with a man she accused of rape. I can't imagine having to see that bastards face everyday.
The really disgusting part is that I don't know if I believe her. I have always seen my mother as a strong woman and I just can't believe she would do nothing about it. Then again, who would believe her if she kept going back to him. I hated bio daddy after hearing that news although I kinda talk to him now. Sometimes I foolishly want to ask him if he did it. But that is my mother's life and she told me this in the worst way. Had enough drama yet? Well, there is loads more but the point to this is, ever since that incident happened, I haven't felt the same about my mother.
The really disgusting part is that I don't know if I believe her. I have always seen my mother as a strong woman and I just can't believe she would do nothing about it. Then again, who would believe her if she kept going back to him. I hated bio daddy after hearing that news although I kinda talk to him now. Sometimes I foolishly want to ask him if he did it. But that is my mother's life and she told me this in the worst way. Had enough drama yet? Well, there is loads more but the point to this is, ever since that incident happened, I haven't felt the same about my mother.
Where do we stand now, well, since the family meeting didn't happen (you can reference that here), I am not happy with my mom. Especially since she snapped on my over the phone about why she didin't need the family meeting. My mother doesn't know how to express her emotions which has left her over stressed, overweight, sick, and depressed. I feel bad for her. She did too much too soon in her life and she is burnt out.
I know many things that could help her get back on her feet and live her true life. I was going to share that with in the meeting but she got scared. She is afraid to hear the truth. She thinks she failed her daughters (boy am I tired of hearing that shit) when her daughters are her most successful children. I think she realizes she didn't do so well in the mom department on some things. In fact, I think it was my mother's goal to be more of our friend than our mom and she succeeded. I remember feeling tender with her as a kid and I still have moments when I want to curl up next to her. But she is not comfortable with that so I don't even think about it.
I know many things that could help her get back on her feet and live her true life. I was going to share that with in the meeting but she got scared. She is afraid to hear the truth. She thinks she failed her daughters (boy am I tired of hearing that shit) when her daughters are her most successful children. I think she realizes she didn't do so well in the mom department on some things. In fact, I think it was my mother's goal to be more of our friend than our mom and she succeeded. I remember feeling tender with her as a kid and I still have moments when I want to curl up next to her. But she is not comfortable with that so I don't even think about it.
I know what I have to do to strengthen our relationship but lately with all the other stress in my life I keep putting it on the back burner. I know there is a soul lesson in here somewhere. Step dad would love to think that we don't appreciate all our mother did for us. That if we knew about all her sacrifices we would feel stupid for ever judging her. I get it. She gave up a lot and I am grateful.
But that doesn't mean it was ok for her to keep a nasty house, quit her job because she didn't like it or whatever the case and not be able to put food on the table or have a house phone for three years. Hey, need to call 911? Go next door to the neighbors house (this was way before cell phones were popular or cheap). Sometimes we had to do homework under candle light because the light bill didn't get paid. My mom would rather spend her last on renting a movie and ordering us pizza because she was thinking about the moment. If she asked us what we wanted, we would have said, turn the fucking phone and light on! Guess that shit still pisses me off a bit.
But that doesn't mean it was ok for her to keep a nasty house, quit her job because she didn't like it or whatever the case and not be able to put food on the table or have a house phone for three years. Hey, need to call 911? Go next door to the neighbors house (this was way before cell phones were popular or cheap). Sometimes we had to do homework under candle light because the light bill didn't get paid. My mom would rather spend her last on renting a movie and ordering us pizza because she was thinking about the moment. If she asked us what we wanted, we would have said, turn the fucking phone and light on! Guess that shit still pisses me off a bit.
Bio dad showed up every six months and that hurt but it hurt more when the one parent that was around didn't give us what we needed. I remember that more. At least the motherfucker didn't show up. I mean, most of childhood memories of bio dad are actually great ones since they are so few. Am I being too hard on her? Perhaps
Well, most of this seems like a rant. In writing I did discover that I am grateful for her. I have wonderful memories of her as a child. I do love her. I am actually not sure I want to have a relationship with her. Am I afraid of being disappointed? I have been disappointed many times by her so one more won't hurt. Besides, I know she is ready for the next level in her life. My mom is too smart, beautiful, and talented for this mediocre living she has been doing. I think that is the part that hurts when it comes to my entire family. To see such divine children of God blessed with so much skill that they let go to waste. My mom is wasting away. I should help her, right? Heh, well, here's an epiphany: maybe this isn't my soul lesson. Maybe it's hers. Maybe I am supposed to help her soul in this lifetime. Wow, never thought of it that way. This is not my movie. Damn, better get to writing the mommy dearest letter...
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