IN HONOR OF THIS MOST FABULOUS DAY OF THE YEAR, I AM RE-POSTING AN ENTRY I MADE ABOUT MY OWN MOTHER. HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL THE MOMMIES OUT THERE–AND HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO YOU MOM!
|Here’s a Story For Ya, Mom.|
Tonight I talked to my mom. She encouraged me to write a story. So here is "our" story–I hope she doesn’t mind.
My mom "got" me when I was one. I wasn’t allowed to live with my biological mother, for reasons I won’t get into here, who was at that time living with my grandparents, so instead of being flung into foster care, my grandma asked my mom to take me for a while…just until they got things straightened out.
My dad was stationed in Korea at the time. He had seen me before when I was in the hospital. He’s told me that when he looked at me, he thought I was going to die. I think everyone did.
So it was just us girls. My mom said I had a heart monitor that would go off all the time, and it made her a nervous wreck–so she let me sleep on her chest. The very thought brings tears to my eyes, now that I have babies of my own.
When my dad came back, he did not want to keep me unless they could adopt me. They didn’t think it would be right to keep me for so long only to have to give me up years down the road. Fair enough. So I was adopted.
My family moved to Hawaii, and my parents had 2 more kids–my sisters. I was never treated differently because I was adopted. I must have been told about it at a young age, because I don’t remember "finding out". I’ve just always…known. I never felt like I had a "hole" or anything like that. My childhood is filled with nothing but wonderful memories. I was always able to talk to my parents, always felt loved, spoiled, protected.
My dad travelled frequently with the military. My mom took care of all three of us, the house, and her very own set of unruly dogs all by herself a lot of the time. I can remember driving 14-15-maybe 16 hours to Florida one summer and breaking down in the middle of nowhere. She must have been scared out of her mind–way back then no one had a cell phone–but she didn’t show it. I would’ve been bawling and wailing, right in front of my kids. That’s how strong she is.
I went through a stage where I thought everything my mother said or did was just WRONG. I slammed doors. I told her I hated her.
One day my little sister and I were fighting, and I told her that she was a mistake, that mom and dad didn’t want her. She came back with "Yeah? Well they only adopted you because they felt sorry for you! They didn’t want you!" I went crying to my mom, conviently leaving out what I had said. When my sister told her the whole story, she scolded me and told me "You WILL NOT play the adoption card in this house."…I’m glad she never let me play the adoption card in that house.
When I was about 15, I got a little boy-crazy. I lost my head for one moment–and BAM! Got knocked up. First time. My mom went through the roof. My dad could hardly look me in the eye for months. It was to be expected. But never once were they anything less than supportive and loving. They helped me with just about anything I wanted to do. I had so much help, from so many people.
I remember about 2 weeks before Cheyenne was born, her father freaked out a little and suggested we give her up for adoption. I was a little upset, of course, and talked to my parents about it. My dad kind of laughed and said "he just has cold feet–he’ll be over it in a day."
But I’ll never forget what my mom said–"Your dad and I would adopt her if it ever came down to that…I wouldn’t want you to regret giving her to another family. She is a part of you." I remember feeling so relieved when I heard those words come out of her mouth…relief that I wouldn’t have to give her up, and relief that my mother understood. She always understood.
I got married young and moved away with Cheyenne. My parents and I stayed close. When things didn’t work out, they welcomed us back home with open arms. They were more than wonderful during my divorce, and never judged me or said "I told you so". They made sure I went to college, watched Cheyenne when I was at work, and tolerated my partying stage.
My mom can do anything. My mom is funny. My mom is talented. My mom is beautiful, and she has THE MOST AMAZING BIG BLUE EYES. My mom is honest. My mom is strong.
Tonight I talked to my mom. She makes me feel like I CAN DO ANYTHING. She thinks I’m funny. She thinks I’m talented, and she thinks I’m beautiful. She understands me better than anyone else in the world. She’s so happy that I’ve met someone who gets me, who I can be myself around. She’s so happy that I’m enjoying being a mother. But I think what makes her the happiest is knowing that I’m finally starting to appreciate everything she did while I was growing up. I just wish it hadn’t taken me this long.