Blog #9 Essay 2 draft

"I am the MOTHER I wanted" by Suzanne

My mother and I had a ok relationship. I mean I can't remember a time that she hugged me or told me she loved me. I can remember her cooking for my sisters and I, washing our clothes, and dressing us up to go to Manhattan on Easter. Easter was the only time I can remember my mother going shipping and fussing over how her girls looked. Every year I would looked forward to Easter, because that connected me to some normalcy in my life. Easter is the time that my mother was like all the other of thousands of mothers in America that fussed with how their children would look on Easter. What was funny was that not until I became an adult did I realize that Easter was a religious day. A day people go to church and pay respect to a God. mean my mother, Mary did not take us to church or teach us about a "HIGHER POWER". Easter was when we got dressed up to go to Manhattan, eat at Nathan's (famous hot dog place), and come back home and watch the Ten Commandants on ABC. Out of all my memories of my mother that is the only one that sticks out, and it is because that is the only day I saw Mary as any other mother.

So many things came from my Easter experience with my mother. I hate to wear dresses because of that Easter experience. My mother made us girls dress up in dresses with ruffles every where, and sometimes a big bow on the back of the dress.

My sisters and I had to where a dress, black pattern leather shoes, and pantyhose that seemed to be to small for us. I hated that damn pantyhose because it seemed I spend the entire day pulling up that white pantyhose. It is funny the things you remember when you were a child. I still hate pantyhose, even now as an adult, now when I can choose my own color and size of pantyhose, I still will not wear one unless it is absolutely mandatory.

Now that I am a mother I understand my mother. Mary was born in Trinidad, West Indies and came to America in the 1970's (I don't know the exact date). Mary, my mother, was the oldest of 12 children and a lot was expected of her. One of the expecations was to be virgin at marriage. Mary did not live up to that expectation and I found that out when I saw my parents wedding photo in which Mary was 8 months pregnant with me. I know my parents liked eah other enough to have sex, but now I know they did not love each other enough to get married. Since my mother got pregnant the firsts time she had sex, she had to marry my father. Back then neither one had a choice in the matter and the wedding planning began so they can be married before my birth. Mary kept every thing in and simetimes I thought she did not even know how to defend herself. It was only when she came to America and away from my father and her parents Mary choose to get loose. Mary let loose so much that she became an alcoholic. Mary's drinking did not happen immediately, but it happened over years.

My father came to America 2 years after my mother arrived and the problems started. Those two years, a full time job and the ideal that women had rights in America encouraged my mother to do her own thing. But doing her own thing would have long lasting effects on my sisters and I. I think my mother drank to escape her life. As I said before my mother was very private and didn't talk about her problems and certainly never shared her feelings with her girls. I know that is why I talk to my children about everything. I have created an atmosphere in my relationship with my children that they can come to me and ask me anything. Some people don't agree with my openness but my memory of my silent childhood drowns out their comments. And I am always asking my children "how they feel". When I wa young and even know my family never asked me "how I feel". No one asked me how I felt about my parents divorce, or living with my father after the divorce, no one spoke to me about sex, about what I wanted to become when I got older, how to be an effective parent, how to be a good wife, how to accept myself for who I am. But now that I am the parent I ask and tell my kids all those previous things and more. I don't want my children to have only one memory of me being their mother. I want them to look back at their childhood and have numerous memories of me being their mother and loving them and telling them how much I love them and how much they improved my life. I want my kids to know their importance in my life. I necer know the importance I had in my mother's life until the end.

Mary died in December 1999 and her last three years was spent with my family. Previously from the time my parents got divorced until she moved in with us I did not have a relationship with my mother. I guessed I was mad and now that I was older I was upset with her that she did not fight for her girls.. It was 10 years or so that I had not interacted with my mother. I mean I went to my gradmother's and aunt's house and she was their, but it was like seeing a stranger at your family functions. My grandmother, and aunts (Mary's mother and sisters) all told me "you should go talk to your mother". But I felt that she was the parent not me so she should make the first move to come and tlk to me and not go get a drink. It was not until I had my own children that I realized how hard it is to be a good parent. To be a good parent you must heal your own issues. You must heal your pain so you can efffectively parent your child. My mother had a lot of issues that she did not heal. Those last three years did so much healing for me, but I don't know if Mary healed her pain. Just writing this makes me cry. I miss my mommy now and wish she can see how wonderful Yorel and Yazmin are. I wish she didn't some or drink then maybe we would have had more time. Mary loved my children with all her heart and she gave them the love she had for her own girls. And with her loving my kids as she did made me forgive her, I am not my mother's judge because I did not walk in her shoes but I am her daughter and with that alone I forgave her.