Today someone, who has known my mother somewhat through a friend of hers, asked me if I spoken to my mother (since being back from jail and knowing the world of change I have gone through as well as some major health issues ) he has sighed and said ” are you ok?” at times. Today he said ” that is so far behind you” on the jail thing. But today he asked about mom. I said no. He sighed and said ” I am sorry to hear that.”
My mother is not who made me. I am not my mother. The strong women in my life does not have my mother listed on it. I survived without my mother since the time that she failed attempted suicide when I was small enough to be a baby left laying in her arms…found just before it was too late. I have survived without my mother since I was nine years old and she left…walked out the door. Left me, my brother and three sisters…one only just a year old. Her baby. A woman left her baby. Where did she go? Turns out to work in a bar and end up pregnant by another man. She came back eventually after months of not knowing if she was even alive and certainly not understanding how she had left us. She never said she was sorry. She was never sorry.
I have survived since I was pregnant before age twenty and scared to death and left alone with the choice of abortion or no…and then not having the choice and dealing with loss…and being told she hoped that I bled to death.
I have survived without her since the day that I walked down the aisle to my first husband. They say women marry their daddy…I married the exact opposite of my mother. I knew this going down the aisle. I was hoping…holding out for…my family. If I wasn’t given it as a child I would make it as an adult. I would create my own family and we would be ok.
I survived when I later divorced on my own too. My dreams shattered.
I survived now when I came out of jail and walked four miles in the driving freezing rain to nowhere to go. Nothing .
I survived you mom.
The strong women in my life are not you.
So when someone else asks how I am doing. When someone else gave me a job knowing I had been in jail for theft charges. When someone else ( a friend) had opened her door to me and gave me a place to stay that cold wet night and when many someone elses said ” it’s not their fucking business and you are past that.” When someone else who wasn’t even a friend anymore because of a dumb falling out emptied her closets and brought me warm clothes to wear. When someoone else made sure I had something to eat. When someone else says ” I am glad you are back, really”, when you told me I should spend twenty-five years and how dare I be back. And now the same amount of time later that I spent in jail, seven months, when someone else says ” thats far behind you ” and because of my health issues ” are you ok?” But that someone isn’t you. You don’t get to be on my list of strong women in my life.