When anyone asks me about my childhood I reply most of the time with my first recollection. It was perfect. We did not have valuable posessions. We never went on a family vacation, not even over night at the local beach. We did not eat lobster or prime rib, in fact I did not experience these food until after my teen years.
Most people can say they have experienced luxuries at some point in their child hood. Even if it takes coaxing them into realizing it. But us? Never. In now way at all did we have "luxury". But what I did have, was love. Constant love. Constant support, guidance, appreciation, comfort and all of the things that I now know really matter.My mother was a large part of my positive shaping. She was the popularly ideal, but rarely experienced mother figure. My mother was "born" to be a mom. She loved all three of us, and she showed it every day, no matter what. I think that is what defines a good parent. Not showing it when you had a bad day. Not taking it out on your children when you are stressed out. I never had that experience growing up. We never knew that my parents struggled financially. We had everything that an average child had. Christmas presents, birthday presents & parties, thanksgiving dinner, bicycles, etc. My mother cooked dinner every day and she baked for the family every night. She brought us all together to create memories, she was the rock.
After many years of happiness and oblivion on my part, I suddenly realized that my perfect childhood which I was so grateful for, had come to an end. It was a whirlwind which changed my mother into someone I no longer recognized. Someone I did not want to be around anymore because she was a betrayed. My father had an affair. My mother knew it, although she never could quite prove it. But she finally did. After years of heartache and turmoil in our family, my mother for the first time in her life, at 40 years old, moved out and got her very own apartment.
She had never had to work to fully support herself. Now she had to. She had always had her days filled with raising her three children, the chaos of being a stay at home mom. Not anymore. I remember going to her apartment for the first time and she was so proud. It was her little tiny space of her own, and it was a new life. Not a life he chose, nor one she ever thought she would have or prepared to be in. But it was hers. She said she wanted to set an example by being strong and moving on. Not to cause us any more grief by the constant dissaray of emotions brought upon by my father's unfaithfulness.
I was happy that she felt like she did the right thing. But both of us knew this would be a long, hard road. I eventually moved into my mother's apartment after visiting her often and not getting a long with my father very well. I enjoyed her new life, and being there to witness it and also nurture it. I felt I was now providing to her, what she had always provided to me. Companionship, unconditional love, support, sympathy and parallel feelings about our family which was now broken.
Nothing was ever quite the same after that. What was a "new start" turned into daily pain and suffering. My mother will never be able to let go of her pain she endures from the break up of her marriage and family which she worked so very hard to create. She did not deserve the cards she was dealt. She has never told a lie....ever. She is kind, open-hearted, and she is the meaning of "mom". It is hard to wtach her sruggle. She now is 52 years old and works 90 hours every single week. She works 7 days a weeks also. It breaks my heart to see my mother who was once a woman whose main concern was her children and family unit to now being a woman of loneliness, exhaustion, and resent. I don't think I have the need to explain why I admire my mother.
I think I've said it all. She was wonderful...she was my perfect mom and I appreciate being able to say that when I know there are such very few people who can ever really say that and mean it. I do. I admire her for what she gave me, my foundation, my never knowing what poor life we really had, how they struggled, how they worried. I was a child. It was right to be the mother who made her children feel comfort, safety and love in the midst of constant anxiety. I admire her for her strength to endure the affair and change direction in her life. To start a new life, that she did not ever want to exist. To deal with the the hardship even today of what she has to do just to survive every single day. I admire her for being my mother. For being my teacher. She has shown me what family is, the work you need to put into your life, how to overcome, how to conquer change and most importnatly...she has shown me exactly what I want to be to my own son. The perfect mom.