by L. Merlino

Created on: September 29, 2008

My mother married a man who was many years her senior. While she was madly in love, she was but a kid, newly arrived in this country with English as a second language, not yet mastered. My dad would be her father-figure and teacher as well. She was naive in many ways while he was beyond worldly. She was a virginal second wife whereas he'd already had three daughters by a previous marriage, sowed plenty of wild oats and witnessed the front-line horrors of WWII when she was barely out of diapers.

She had not yet tasted independence while he'd been orphaned and on his own from an early age. In fact, he was a contemporary of her mother's - she was young enough to be his daughter. Somehow, they made that marriage work, but it was largely through my mom's hard effort.

At first, he thought she was too young for him but looks can be deceiving; she was however deeply innocent and naive. Once establishing that she was of marriageable years, he went ahead and married her. It would not be long however before my mom would outshine him both in maturity and business acumen. He was, after all, a good teacher.

It was her dream to come to this country and establish a business. She didn't have the know-how, but he did. He taught, she learned and worked her fingers to the bone. He was also a very jealous and possessive partner and granted her very little freedom outside of that which was directly related to business.

Still in the bloom of youth, he made her wear her hair in an austere bun and dress in stiffly, understated attire to play down their age difference. As a kid, I often wondered why she came off as so stern and uptight, when with her hair down, she still looked like a child herself. The fact is, Dad would not allow her to show her softer nature. Everything had to be all business, even when it came to her mothering style.

I longed for my mother to meet me halfway, and not always seem like too many generation gaps away from me, but my father had an iron hand when it came to those things. In fact, it was at my mom's insistence that they had a child at all - and it seemed it was to be played by his rules. She'd frequently pull all-nighters, while I slept on a couch in her dress-shop wondering when she'd catch a break, the sewing machine eternally droning in the background - all through the night she'd work while he snoozed soundly and only handled business during the day. Mom rarely caught a break. I learned the meaning of the word "guilt" at an early age not having the constitution

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