One might think a Mother’s Day gift is wrapped in fine paper with a ribbon on top. Mine is not. Mine happened tonight when my youngest son spoke to me about my influence on how he wants to treat a woman and his apology for not responding to my texts. I don’t mind no responses. I send out I love you’s just because not expecting anything back from a University son. If I do get response it’s a bonus. It is just how I have learned to live life as a single rehabilitated bulimic. I like my solitude, so understand theirs too, but doesn’t mean I can’t reach out now and again to say “hey, I am thinking about you”. I am sure somewhere in my posts I noted that when I was 16 I wanted to be a successful architect in my future, and with a home by a river, overlooking the lake. I saw the home I had once wanted to design at one point in my life, safe for the room with mirrors and bars to dance in. I didn’t ever want to marry or have children, and I owned a Porsche. It was my dream. My dream that twisted in circles until I fell in love two years later, married him seven years later and had three children. To this day I have no regrets. I am single again living in a tiny barn apartment, with nothing but a paycheck and a beaten up 1995 Honda Civic. And I thank God for the most beautiful gifts I have. One is that I am a mother and am celebrating my quarter of a century of being on, albeit he was to be born three months later. Didn’t matter. I was a mom and he was six months in my belly. I am having dinner with my baby tomorrow. Money meant everything to my children’s father including a certain style of womanhood in front of the big wigs as his climb up the latter kept getting higher. Remember, stress for a bulimic is not a good thing and that followed me. But with every pregnancy, I didn’t do it. Sometimes during those times I wished I could be pregnant my whole life. But leaving him alieved that issue later in life. Anyway, it was perhaps some strange futuristic vision that led me to want more than one child. I had my beautiful daughter. Then it seemed complete. I was ready to close off the valves when it was too late and number three, my baby son, was born. He is the story behind this beginning of the Most Awesome Mother’s Day Gift. It means all three are what are the most awesome mother’s day gift, but it brought me to this:
Youngest said tonight I was his inspiration in regards to love, and how to treat a woman.
Daughter had said I was the reason for knowing why she struggles with mental health issues.
Eldest son just loves me and figures I am who I am.
Three beautiful thoughts. I will take them all. the Most Awesome Mother’s Day Gifts. But more so, I love their insightfulness. All three have spoken to appreciating my breakdown, my fears, my self sabotage, and then watching as I grow to be stronger, and love them more than money. To appreciate each of their emotional baggage as children of divorce, and they too me of being a victim of one.
They all talk differently of their lives to me, and I see all of them in me. That is being a mother. To understand all their not only emotional, but intellectual, and investigative needs in this world that has so created a more beautiful next generation. For everyone who at my age of 51 or older do not have faith in the next generation? I so do. I have been blessed with three children who are proving that. Three completely different, yet bound by their sibling traits, wonderful and beautiful children.
Thank you God. May you lead them continually on the path of a more balanced life, yet one still filled with the excitement and adventure I lived, even if it left me with not much materialistically. It left me with a pot of gold in unconditional love. The kind God, you advocate for us through your love. Thank you!!
Happy Mother’s Day to all, both mothers and fathers who know what being a carelover and teaching out little ones that grow up how to know that love… unconditional.