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Sparkle (1)
I remember as a very young adult, surfacing from my teen years… Finding myself married… and not having a mother figure in my life struggling with the very thought of mother’s day… It depressed me… It angered me (not that everything didn’t anger me at this point)… I remember flashbacks to the cultish church (sometimes which I had been dragged to by my hair) and the Mothers day program and cheesy songs put on by the primary… and the little flowers given to all the mothers in attendance… I remember all the girls in their Easter dresses with fancy hats (It was tradition to wear them again for this performance) … it was the 80s, who are we fooling, there were gloves too… I never had a dress, or hat, or gloves… Im so okay with this, at least there are not embarrassing pictures… oh wait… there are no pictures at all… Ironic that I point out my father’s favorite hobby is photography, and volunteering for the National Victims advocacy groups… Good for him… while his three daughters … The Suicidal one (See the “Every town has an elm street” post), The drunk (OH! I should write a post for her… she is a treat) and I live our adult lives without any fond childhood memories at all… Or pictures to remember them by… I remember when I found out I couldn’t have children… as all my friends were starting families…Holding precious little bundles… I remember being so sad… Because all I wanted was to be a mother… and crying each year … I remember when I became a mother (OH! There is another post there… And to think I had nothing left to write about when I started this)… Because they were wrong… and I had a little blue perfect bundle of my own… And I really came to understand what love was… and what life was about.. and who I really was… And he stared at me with adoring eyes that lit up whenever I entered the room… and when he told me he wanted to marry me when he grew up (he was two) and when he started to call me yaya (Not momma, not my child apparently)… it turned to mommy… he laughed with me… he played with me.. he stuck lipstick up my nose and in my ears when I dozed off… Mothers Day! I loved it… Then I became a Mother again … To a teenager… a broken little girl… who I had the honor of witnessing her mending… and thanked my lucky stars everyday for having been blessed with her … I couldn’t imagine life without her… (See My Angels Angel Post… my poor angel will struggle so hard this mother’s day)…. (The Drunk (Previously Mentioned) broke her… and couldn’t raise her)… With this child came my biological mother back into my life… And I accepted it, and I let it happen… and I was spoiled on Mother’s day each year… With mothers rings… and candles and incents… bubble baths… bathrobes… Then there was the Mothers day… Towards the End with “Him” (See the divorce posts)… He tried.. In his drunken, prescription pill induced haze to recreate any kind of goodness… He bought my favorite movie (I had pleaded for it.. and the time to watch it)… but when that time came… I couldn’t let him take the children… I couldn’t trust him with them… Not to drive… He grabbed them both… as I screamed in terror and fury after him… not to take them (They were so confused… they didn’t understand what was happening… only that I had lost my mind at this point… They didn’t know there was anything wrong with him… this was how they knew him… I had tried to protect them from knowing the truth… and now they didn’t understand)…. 16 and 6 years old… and he took them, pushing me to the ground… in a heap of tears… and disappeared for two hours… I never watched the movie… I stayed on the floor… by the door until he brought them back… and I made him leave. That was the end… I know that now… It dragged on so much longer, but I knew at that point… He had taken my children … And Mothers Day became something new...Mothers day became a day to celebrate children.. And the miracle of them… and my right… My RIGHT… to keep them safe, and be loved, and not about candles, rings, bubble
