I am a nurturer

I've been thinking a lot about writing.  I suppose I have thought enough about it and now I NEED  to write.  So here it goes.

This time of year reminds me of the weekend I officially had it with my mother.  It was Memorial Day weekend and she locked herself in her room.  I knocked, cajoled, and finally faced the fact that on the other side of that door, she could be dead.  Kind of a lot for a 13yr old.  I left a message for the social worker assigned to our case.  She showed up on Monday.  

I was asked if I wanted to leave.  My mother was shocked at my whistle-blower actions.  Of course I wanted to leave.  I had wanted to leave for years.  I didn't want to do all the grocery shopping at nine years old.  Only to have my mother inspect it and send me back if I made a mistake.  The ridiculous shame of exchanging items with food stamps.  It probably was no big deal to the clerk but I felt like a big huge sign was upon me: poor kid who can't shop correctly!

I know my relationship with my mother isn't as bad as it could have been.  You see that?  Minimizing it.  To tell you the truth I didn't realize how twisted it all was until I had my own baby.  Then all the puzzle pieces fell into place.  

You raise a child with the vision of that baby becoming a complete person.  A child is not your cleaner, therapist, friend, or scapegoat.  It is not your child's place to take total care of you.  Everything I did in my childhood, my mother took as a reflection on her.  I fed her ego.  With my musical knowledge, my ability to never ask for help with homework.  To never complain that this was all so wrong.  I really had no idea.

After I left her I cut all ties.  She wrote me all that first summer.  I never read any of those letters.  I have no idea what she could have been telling me.  After all I KNEW part of the truth.  I was so strong and angry that summer.  Instead of being terrified, I felt free.  I could have friends.  I could talk to anyone.  I could express myself and not have someone behind me smiling that it was her genetic make-up and not my choices that made me who I am.

Nearly every choice I made as a mother was in direct opposition to what I was shown.  I was never censored in my quest for information and knowledge by my mother.  There was always music playing.  My mother was a world class cook.  Facts that I couldn't deny so I carried these forth as my nurturing palate.  I tried to be fair and listen.  I tried to stress that big rules were about safety, not trivial control over them.  I learned to go back and say "I am sorry" or " I over- reacted".  I saw over and over from living with different families that too often power is a brutal tool used without consideration of the personality it is being applied to.  I often remind myself that my children do intuit certain truths without the experience to back them.  I also would say, I feel awkward talking about this, do you?  Which allowed us to then speak openly about a subject.  I never wanted to be friends with my children in their childhood.  I also never wanted to be a monster of nonsense rules.

I tried very hard to not have the darkness of my childhood visit my children.  I am sure pieces of it appeared anyway.  I am far from perfect.  We all have a choice.  We can admit our shortcomings and work around them.  Or we can set our children up for a life long quest for people in the world that don't exist.  I am the first relationship my children had in their lives.  I reminded myself often that it isn't just about me.

There has never and still isn't enough money.  I moved around a lot.  I made the best of some really bad situations.  I was always protecting and doing what I could to instill an ethical compass in my children.

Samantha is a mom now. Two adorable little boys exist.  I helped bring both of them into the world.  She also took in a young man who's mother has a lot of problems.  That young man has pulled himself up.  No place and no one is perfect.  She has shown him unconditional love.  He is quite the amazing person.  I respect him and who he will become in the world.  Samantha didn't hesitate to fight for him on every level.  How she parents shows me that I broke the cycle that was visited to me.

Dylan is going to take the world on....one song at a time.  His vision is to go into broadcasting.  That was my dream as a young woman.  I never suggested it to him.  He too remembers every song he's ever heard.  He brings me gifts of music I wouldn't hear otherwise.  He is articulate and charming, stubborn and patient.  

I am so proud that I took a chance on love and I didn't fail.