My Mom

I thought it only appropriate to write about my mom. Because, I would also not be who I am today if it was not for her as well.

My mom ended up pregnant with me at a very young age. She and my father were 16, and they had me when they were 17. My mom coming from a very different family life then what my dad had growing up, becoming a pregnant teenager was not looked upon with loving eyes. She had the opportunity to give me up for adoption or to get an abortion, and she chose to have me instead. Her and my dad got married young and had me young. I have been told repeatedly through my life that the standing joke in the family was to see who was going to grow up first, me or my parents. For fairness sake, we grew up together.

My parents did not have a great marriage. My father was abusive and an alcoholic and enjoyed having affairs with the girls that worked for him at the various jobs he had. My mom worked, did what she could, trying to meet his demands and lived in fear. She wanted to leave, but when I was a baby he had held me by the throat over the toilet and told her that if she ever left him he would kill me. So she stayed and endured what he did to her for the sake of me, and then my siblings.

I remember us leaving him in the middle of the night fleeing to my grandparents for safety. I remember my grandparents rallying to protect us all and us going back. I remember her pain, and trips to the ER for broken bones, deeps cuts and my father screaming that she deserved what she got. She stayed to protect us, because it was safer. The old adage keep your friends close and your enemies closer I decided was what she lived by.

Growing up watching her, she taught me strength and courage. She taught me to stand up and take what ever it was life was throwing at me no matter what. She taught me that nothing in this world is more important then my children and that sacrificing myself to save them was not just what parents were suppose to do, but what my mom did. Selflessness…Determination…. Unconditional love…

My mom still til this day doesn’t realize just how strong she really is and how much she has taught me. And there are times that I wonder if my siblings are aware of what she taught them, if they way they remember our father is the same fragmented eyes that they look at our mom through.

I am grateful for my mom, and I appreciate all that she has done for me and I wish there was a way for me to even begin to repay her for just a fraction of her sacrifice.

I love you mom, and I thank you for model of what strength it takes to be a mom and a woman.