Mother.
Yesterday was mother’s day. I’m certain you knew that.
I never had a mother. The woman who brought me into the world is an alcoholic and a schizophrenic. The year I was born, she was very ill. It’s possible that the strain of three children, her addiction, my father’s financial losses, her mother’s death or fill in the blank, exacerbated the situation. For whatever reason, she was completely nuts, tried to kill me a couple times, and needless to say, wasn’t exactly motherly. In fact, she believes that most of this was my fault and thus, never liked me.
But this post isn’t about her because really who cares? To a certain extent, when your mother’s actually crazy? You’re lucky if she doesn’t like you.
While I never received mothering from my biological mother, there are a number of women who have, over the years adopted me. I wanted to talk about them, my mothers.
The first mother I had was a heroin addict prostitute that took care of me when we lived in Reno. I know, it sounds awful. But she was wonderful. She loved me in a fierce way that spurred me on in life and, in my darkest hours, I can hear her cheering for me. She believed in me. She believed that I could overcome everything that was going on and become something. She killed herself when I was about four years old but was never able to kill the fire her love lit inside of me.
I had a variety of mothers in the time that I lived in California. Friend’s mothers stepped in over and over again to make sure I was fed and clothed. Teachers tried to encourage my biological mother to care for me. The neighbor lady taught me to cook. One of my grandfather’s wives (he had ten) taught me to needlepoint. One after another, they came loved me, then as I moved on, they did as well.
I dated a boy from the time I was seventeen until I was twenty-seven years old. We grew up together and his mother took care of us both. She is the most loving person I have ever met. Over and over again, she reached out to me with kindness and love. She even went toe to toe with my biological mother once.
I’ve been told that T. was my nanny in a past life. I met her at one of those awful meetings where everyone is trying to impress each other. She believes that one person can make a difference in this world. Thus, she has worked every day to make a difference in the world. She’s amazing. She calls me to remind me to take care of myself. She worries about me when I’m not doing well. She loves me. Maybe she shouldn’t but she does anyway. I’m blessed to know her.
My other mother lives in Cincinnati. She’s really struggled in life, yet remains incredibly positive, hopeful and inspiring. She always has a cheery word, and a quirky saying, to remind me that I can do it. Her honestly and spunk help me to believe that any dream is possible. And every single day, she thinks of me, writes me a little note, and spurs me along. There’s no reason for her to help me, none at all. Yet she does, every day.
Most people only get one mother. I’ve had literally hundreds. And I’m blessed for it.
I think the day after mother’s day should be surrogate mother’s day. Today I celebrate all the women who loved me, nurtured me, then sent me on my way trusting that the road would provide the next loving woman to help me along the way.
Who were your surrogate mothers? How did they help you on your journey?
Filed under: Going out on a limb, Thoughts on being human....
This is a wonderful post - I’ve been lucky in that I’ve had some fantastic support from a variety of women over the years (I also had a mother who did love me, but sometimes I was too blind to see it). As an adult I’ve been grateful for the fact that my mother gave me the great gift of independence and knew that she wasn’t always the best person to help me. Sometimes, it didn’t feel very safe but now I realise what she was doing. This gave me the freedom to have support from other people when it was necessary. I think I feel the same way about siblings that you do about mothers - I never had sisters or brothers and I think that I’ve sought them out through friendships and been lucky enough to find them - 2 of my dearest friends are like a brother and a sister to me. I hope this makes sense.
Heather - It makes perfect sense. It also sounds like your mom was trying to teach you resilience - so hard to learn, but so valuable. Cheers to your mom - I’m glad you were born!
Lovely post. It’s interesting how we can find solace wherever it we can…humans really are pretty resilient. Your story reminds me of those monkeys, in the psychology experiment? The ones that have a mommy made of wire and the ones that have a mommy made of fuzzy soft stuff? Even though the ones with the fuzzy soft stuff don’t have a real monkey mommy, they grow up and turn out to be perflectly well-adjusted monkeys. They make due withwhat they’ve got.
Wow, I’m prattling. I enjoyed your post, though. Take care of yourself.
Great post, Claudia.
My mother and I have always had problems relating to each other but as I’m moving through my life I’m starting to realise it wasn’t all her fault; she had had a crappy life and I’m a very self contained person.
But I do love her…
Angela
Claudia, looks like you’ve gone through a lot but it’s great that you recognised that you have been blessed with all these women who have loved you. I salute all of them. Some may have been limited by their own circumstances but that makes their love even more special. Hope you are spreading some of that love to others.
God bless.
Your story is amazing. Your survival is amazing. It’s so nice to know that there are people out there like that.
As for my mamma, she’s about all I can handle, and she’s pretty darn cool. I’m lucky. she’s a social worker and has always been someone’s surrogate mother, that makes her kinda bossy, but I’ll keep her.
This post touches me, Claudia. I feel grateful that you had that motherly sort of love and encouragement from many other women in your life. I think there is sometimes a deeper level of intimacy from those relationships than the one between a bio. mother-daughter. Your experience also reminds me to honor all of the women who stepped into my life - and continue to do so - with no strings but rather with a pure heart. We are indeed blessed.
The Junky’s Wife - Hello! I think you bring up a good point. We focus on our biological parents to the exclusion of all the people who love us, care for us and teach us. It’s a crowd.
Angela - I’ve alway s believed that we do our best - regardless of how it looks. I admire you for building bridges with your mom.
Squirrelly - I honestly believe that everyone suffers. I am amazed that we all live in peace every single day. That’s truly the miracle of life.
Nila - I love those bossy women. If you can grin and bear it, it’s really wonderful. Good for you for accepting what she is and enjoying her beauty.
Pam - Isn’t it amazing? There’s no reason for their kindness, yet it’s given freely and with love. I’m certain that with you in France and your dd in NYC, there are women who are taking care of her as well. And what a wonderful thing!
Claudia, this is such a lovely, heart-stirring post. You are truly amazing. I’m so glad there were loving women in your life to take up the slack and mother you as you grew up.
My relationship with my mother was sensitive. She vastly preferred my older brother, who was allowed to tyrannize me. I loved her, but never felt that she loved me, but rather that she suffered my presence in her life.
My third grade teacher enjoyed me for the same reasons most of my other teachers didn’t– I constantly asked questions. As the children filed out of her classroom on the last day of school, she leaned over and kissed my cheek and whispered that she loved me best. I never forgot it.
My aunt was an artist, and she loved to paint me. She always bought me brown and turquoise outfits for birthdays and Christmas, which I didn’t like. Years later, I realized that it was because of the color of my hair and eyes, and that was such a revelation. She once told me that she loved me right after her own two kids, my cousins, and that was wonderful. Her eyes teared when she laughed, and she laughed a lot, even though she had a hard life in many ways.
Heart in SF - It’s an awful feeling to not be the favorite, and just that much more awful that your brother was allowed to tyrannize you. How amazing that you’ve been able to raise your own kids! YIPPEE for you! I love these stories of your teacher and your aunt. The world is so beautiful when love is shared.
Thiswassuch a truly beautifulpost and a great tribute toall who helpedandtruly loved you along the way…
Mother’s Day was not made as a Hallmark holiday as we celebrate it now… But was made as a day of Peace. It was made up as a day when mothers from around the world would come together and demand peace in the world from their governments. It was a day when mother’s begged goverments to stop the arms race so that they would not bury their sons…
It was about love and compassion… And about the strength of women… for the people they love…
Pendullum - That’s a lovely idea! We should press that forward next Mother’s day! Maybe we could bring it up for father’s day!
Pendullum’s comment is interesting: you may already know that Mothers’ Day is celebrated on an entirely different date in the UK - it’s usually sometime in March and its origins lie in the church and it was in, I think Victorian times, that maids were given this sunday as a holiday so that they could visit their own mothers. So, a rather less than worthy day in the UK than the day of peace Pendullum describes. I’ve always found it interesting that this is yet one more situation that the UK is out of step on ….
Heather - Boy, it’s almost an anti-mother’s day if the maids go home! We’ll have to ask BroLo about the origins of mother’s day via the church. I think it’s facinating that we all celebrate the same things.