Letter to an absent mother March 28, 2009

Mom,

Why wasn’t I ever your little girl or your baby? Who was I all those years that you never called me, “yours”. You never ran your fingers through my hair to put it in braids before school, Dad did that. You didn’t stay home with me when I was sick. You didn’t come when I was hurt. Where were you? Making dollars to pay the bills? You were always sleeping when you were home. Or you weren’t home at all with us, you were working overtime.

I remember sleeping bags at church and in the bank lobby with juice boxes and snacks. Most of my childhood was spent waiting in the car. We’d get up early for day camp and pray to Saint Theresa on the way for more money, a new house, grandpa’s soul, to see you a little longer on the ride home. Neighborhood ladies seemed to have more time for children, even us, but not you. There was never any time for us, to watch a movie, a girl’s day shopping, even when you knew how much it meant to us. It felt like you didn’t care; never making lunches, never around for good times.

Now I’m all grown up and I try to tell you I need more, need you around. You say I don’t see your work to pay my bills, that’s how you show your love. Now you complain I don’t see you when I’m home. I don’t make time and I don’t care. I’m ungrateful. I say I sent a card.

Just like clockwork March 28, 2009

Looking around lately  there are children, babies and pregnant women everywhere. Perhaps it’s just the biological clock ticking or I’m suddenly opening my eyes to what surrounds me but conversations of, about and between children mesmerize me. I’m taken in, where before I would just be annoyed or bored. Typically I look for an escape, but then again, typically these children are crying, throwing tantrums or being obnoxious. Children now seem sweet, quiet and endearing. It’s a good thing I’m going to spend some quality time with my niece and nephew, I need to be reminded of what children are like, and not that I don’t adore them, I honestly do. I am probably the most maternal person you will meet who does not have children of their own. And yet, I am twenty-five and still fear the relationship commitment that a parent needs to have with their spouse in order to start a family.

I have the hope and the faith that someday I will be a mother, and yet I still wish away the days and push myself into school, work and a social life that doesn’t allow me the opportunity, freedom or time to devote to another person. When I find myself in a relationship that really could progress in that direction my fight or flight instincts click into high gear. The strangest part of this ordeal is that I am not a man. Usually, it is a masculine reaction to fear commitment or relationships. Yet, in my relationships it has not been my partner who suffers from these symptoms but myself. Making the same mistakes and repeating the same patterns I cannot hope to change or progress. My personal hope is that I will find the strength to mature and grow as I need to, it is also the realization that I need to give myself time to grow up. Even though I feel I am in a position and prepared to take on these changes and challenges. It is much like my own childhood, I must learn to accept the advice of my mother and realize that I am confusing what I want with what I think I should have. This does not mean that I will never be ready for these things. Or that the day will not come when I am satisfied, fulfilled and settled as a wife and mother as well as an independent career oriented woman. It simply means that I am not there yet. I’m on my way and will eventually get to that place I just need to stop staring at the clock and make the time to enjoy the ride.