Happy Mother’s Day to all the mom’s out there. And even if you aren’t a mother, I hope you have a wonderful Sunday.
Some of you know my past, but for those of you that don’t, I don’t have a mother I can say Happy Mother’s Day too. My mother gave me up when I was 3 months of age. She was just a child herself and widowed at the age of 18. My father was 19 when the car he was driving hit the edge of a ditch and flipped. He never came out of the coma. So between the time of the accident and the time when I went to live permanently with my great grandparents, I was passed around through the family. My mother didn’t know how to raise a child and truthfully I don’t think even if she did she really was up to the task. She soon found herself another man, pregnant with another child and I was in the way. I was a burden, an inconvenience to her new hubby. Another mouth to feed that wasn’t his, a crying baby when he wanted to sleep, and an expense he didn’t look kindly on.
My great grand parents took me in. They were 59 and 61 at the time. Can you imagine taking in a 3 month old baby at that age? I can’t. I’m only 48 and I can’t even imagine having grandchildren just yet. I had a wonderful life. I was afforded opportunities that many children don’t get. My great grandfather worked for General Motors back in the day when the concept cars were just coming out, under the leadership of Harley Earl. Papa traveled to England, to Paris, all over the globe and I got to go along on many of those trips. I met celebrities, kings, princes, dignitaries, you name it. But I also learned to be seen and not heard at an early age. I learned how to use the correct silverware at fancy dinner parties, to say yes please, no thank you, keep my clothes clean, and sit like a lady. You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. It was a very different world than the one we live in today.
My mother was around during the years I was growing up, but not around enough to make a difference in my life. I remember when she was once again remarried to a different husband, they sat me down and told me how much they wanted to bring me home, how much they wanted to raise me but they couldn’t take me from my grandparents. It was too late. Okay, then why tell a ten year old child any of this if it isn’t going to be. It only confused me more.
I don’t call my mother “Mother.” I still don’t. I call her by her given name. I don’t know any differently. My mother died in 2003. She was actually my great grandmother, but she was the only woman I will ever call “Mother” and the only woman I consider to be my true mother. I am currently writing a women’s fiction novel based loosely on the life I led and also dating back to the life my birth mother led. I know it is going to be a hard sell as it deals with a lot of things people would prefer to have buried under the rug.
So, to all of you who have mothers and will be spending the day with them tomorrow, I envy you. Enjoy your day as time is a precious gift and you never truly know how long you will be around, or even how long your mother will be around.
Till next time, Happy Mother’s Day all. I hope you all have a fabulous day!