The first mom I ever encountered was of course, my mom, Real Mom, the woman who birthed me, the source of my being, the story from which I was written, the greater book to my singular page. She will always be the first and the last, the greatest, closest to an angel in human form and built with resilience so strong to handle the hardest of times, the deepest of troubles. She is the rock, the unchanging stability that lasts forever as seasons change and change back again, she is sturdy and still. As I grow up, she is never replaced, only added to, and the sum of everyone else’s efforts could not add up to hers when it comes to the giant equation of pluses and minuses that is my life.
Becoming a parent should be one of the most important and awesome things out there.
Hello, is there anyone out there to help me?
On this mothers day I reflect on the relationship and lack thereof that I have had with my mother over the years. The role of a mother, to provide nurturing and support, was a role that my mother wasn't quite ready for. At nine months old, she abandoned me in a small southern town under the assumption that she would return when her core training with the United States Army was complete. She did not fully return for many years. For the next decade she was like an imaginary friend, appearing and then dissapearing, as though she was a figment of my imagination. The memories I have of that time are of a woman covered in glow of glitter and theatrics, always smiling this gleaming white smile. A Halle Berry haircut circa Boomerang. To me my "mom" was more like a fairy godmother. She appeared with gifts and left me to return to rags at midnight.
Eyes open slowly. Blurs run my sight. Gradually moving into focus, a female figure takes form, and my mind constitutes the figure as the central entity. With eyes wide open, nothing but sounds and cries release from my vocal cords to grab attention. Unknown to the reason I continue.
As I'm writing this, tomorrow is Mother's Day. I'm fully prepared to give my mother the sanguine "Norman Rockwell" style holiday that every mother dreams of. We'll walk to her favorite restaurant, grab takeout, and have a picnic in the park. I'll hand her the crochet doll I've been delicately crafting since December. Her grandmother taught her to crochet, and then my mother taught me to crochet, and now she holds in her hands a hand-crafted effigy of this deep maternal bond.
Every year, I celebrate my birthday with great zest and enthusiasm with all my near and dear ones as the day reminds me how grateful I am for this beautiful life and spending one more eventful year on this earth. However, I never planned to celebrate a day for a person, who bore an excruciating pain for nine months to bring me into this life. An angel becomes a guiding soul in this alien world and a guardian to protect me from the odds. Who unceremoniously takes up the role of a teacher, friend, mentor, role model and so to this day, and still in return wish only the best of me.
This is about a very special Christmas story with my family. When I was little I never wrote a letter to Santa ever telling him what I wanted. Every year I would get the most cool presents & this is one of those special times.I was 8 years old we had just moved to West Chester Ohio from Bowling Green Ohio. My parents in Bowling Green found a really kind,caring babysitter, they wouldn't leave me with just anyone. So when we moved here they hadn't found one yet to watch me while they did Christmas shopping.
I come from a family of a brother,sister, & of course mom & dad I'm the oldest. Here's a funny story that I'm sure will make a lot of people laugh. Ok so here's a day without my dad summer time because he's out of town on business. It's 2 Pm & my mom was really tired she said,"Tara would you please watch after your brother & sister while I take a 10 minute nap." I said, "Okay" my brother Jason who was 3 at the time was near the fireplace playing with his toy cars. We were all in the family room,mom was on the couch & I said,"Where's Tricia?" Mom said,"She's upstairs." So I went upstairs to get her to bring her down stairs so I could watch both of them while my mom rested on the couch. By the time I got back down stairs with my sister who was 2 at the time by the way I'm 13. My brother was playing with his cars however he had gotten into the fireplace that hadn't been cleaned yet & soot was all over the carpet & the bricks of the fireplace. I said,"Oh no MOM" She said,"What?" then opened her eyes & saw the mess. She said,"I thought I told you to watch your brother & sister?" I was like um okay duh I was thinking would never dare say that out loud but was thinking it. I said,"Mom I went upstairs to get Tricia,because you told me to watch both of them." She said,"Ok I'm done with my 5 minute nap"So she got up off the couch to clean up the mess he had made.
When I was very young, from about 2½ years old onwards, I used to love going out on the farm with Dad and my uncle Stan after lunch. They would often take me out as they were droving sheep, or collecting hay. There were, however, times when they either didn’t want to or felt that it was unsafe, so they would sneak off after lunch before I found out. When I did find out, I used to run outside after them and then throw myself onto the ground, burst into tears, crying “Daddy gone! Daddy gone!” Mum used to tell me that the only way she could placate me was with a chocolate frog.