During these last few days of not feeling well, I've thought a lot about my Mom. She died in 1998 at the age of 79. She and I were very close. I was the youngest of four kids, and the only girl. My oldest brother is fourteen years older than me, my next brother is ten years older, and my deceased brother was a year older.
I have been reminded of how Mom took care of us on the rare occasions when we were sick. Somehow I think being raised in the country, we were automatically immune to the usual "stuff" going around. Personally, I think we were made out of tougher stock. Had to be to live to tell about it.
Anyway, Mom was not a doting mother, but she was always there, providing the support we needed. She was someone you could count on. If she said she was going to do something, you could take it to the bank. It was going to happen.
We didn't have insurance, so we didn't get the preventive care we should have, but on the rare occasion when we required the care of a doctor, Mom found a way to get us there.
Although she only had a third grade education, she had a PhD in common sense.
She was seven when her mother died. Then she and her brother went to live with their paternal grandmother, who died when she was thirteen. Growing up for her was tough. After her grandmother's death, she lived with other relatives as their live-in maid. She understood dysfunctional families all too well.
She married young to escape the life she was living, and in many ways, jumped from the frying pan into the fire. My father was a hard worker, but he was also an alcoholic, with all of the issues that that brings.
We lived near my father's family, about three miles away, but my Mom had the presence of mind to keep us away. My grandmother had obvious favorites among her eight kids, and my father was not one of them. As a result, he was treated harshly and we were tolerated.
My Mom could see the dysfunction in these relatives and how the siblings were raised, not to get along, and pitted against each other, to the point of one brother shooting another brother's leg off. It was not a positive environment, at all.
So, we kept our distance. Mom taught my bothers and I to take care of each other, no matter what. I think she'd be proud of how we continue to strive to do that. Remember it was my second brother who put me through college.
Anyway, I said all this to say that my goal was to raise Ben and Frankie to be there for each other, to support each other, no matter what. I think we succeeded. Funny thing about raising kids, though. You don't know if you've gotten it right until they're grown and making their own choices.
With Mom, we could tell her anything, respectfully of course. That has been my hope with my boys, that they too, could be honest and open with me. Sometimes I haven't made that easy, but that has always been the goal. I especially appreciate when they push back and defend their position. We don't always agree, but I appreciate the fact that they will stand up for what they think is right.
I also appreciate that they correct me . . . often.
Of course, on the surface, talking about Mom and the way I was raised has nothing to do with my current adventure, but in reality, it has everything to do with it. I am who I am today, good or bad, by the collective experiences I had growing up.
Side note - Thankfully, I'm feeling better. I'm reminded of how sick I was last year during my first year in a new school. It takes a minute for your body to adjust and build immunity to, the new "friendly" bugs in the new environment.
This post could be classified as TMI - too much information. In fact, many of them could be under that classification. But that's OK. If it's too much, skim it and move on. To you who have endured it, bless you. Remember, this is therapeutic and fun for me. Today just happens to be a therapeutic one.
Here's hoping that you take the time to reflect on the goodness of those close to you.
CORRECTIONS:
In the "Questions" post, the percentages are wrong. Of course they should have read 10%, 80% and 10%.
In the "Video Success & Travel Theme," the picture of the bridge is not the Brooklyn Bridge.
Thanks Frankie, for pointing out both of these errors.
I have been reminded of how Mom took care of us on the rare occasions when we were sick. Somehow I think being raised in the country, we were automatically immune to the usual "stuff" going around. Personally, I think we were made out of tougher stock. Had to be to live to tell about it.
Anyway, Mom was not a doting mother, but she was always there, providing the support we needed. She was someone you could count on. If she said she was going to do something, you could take it to the bank. It was going to happen.
We didn't have insurance, so we didn't get the preventive care we should have, but on the rare occasion when we required the care of a doctor, Mom found a way to get us there.
Although she only had a third grade education, she had a PhD in common sense.
She was seven when her mother died. Then she and her brother went to live with their paternal grandmother, who died when she was thirteen. Growing up for her was tough. After her grandmother's death, she lived with other relatives as their live-in maid. She understood dysfunctional families all too well.
She married young to escape the life she was living, and in many ways, jumped from the frying pan into the fire. My father was a hard worker, but he was also an alcoholic, with all of the issues that that brings.
We lived near my father's family, about three miles away, but my Mom had the presence of mind to keep us away. My grandmother had obvious favorites among her eight kids, and my father was not one of them. As a result, he was treated harshly and we were tolerated.
My Mom could see the dysfunction in these relatives and how the siblings were raised, not to get along, and pitted against each other, to the point of one brother shooting another brother's leg off. It was not a positive environment, at all.
So, we kept our distance. Mom taught my bothers and I to take care of each other, no matter what. I think she'd be proud of how we continue to strive to do that. Remember it was my second brother who put me through college.
Anyway, I said all this to say that my goal was to raise Ben and Frankie to be there for each other, to support each other, no matter what. I think we succeeded. Funny thing about raising kids, though. You don't know if you've gotten it right until they're grown and making their own choices.
With Mom, we could tell her anything, respectfully of course. That has been my hope with my boys, that they too, could be honest and open with me. Sometimes I haven't made that easy, but that has always been the goal. I especially appreciate when they push back and defend their position. We don't always agree, but I appreciate the fact that they will stand up for what they think is right.
I also appreciate that they correct me . . . often.
Of course, on the surface, talking about Mom and the way I was raised has nothing to do with my current adventure, but in reality, it has everything to do with it. I am who I am today, good or bad, by the collective experiences I had growing up.
Side note - Thankfully, I'm feeling better. I'm reminded of how sick I was last year during my first year in a new school. It takes a minute for your body to adjust and build immunity to, the new "friendly" bugs in the new environment.
This post could be classified as TMI - too much information. In fact, many of them could be under that classification. But that's OK. If it's too much, skim it and move on. To you who have endured it, bless you. Remember, this is therapeutic and fun for me. Today just happens to be a therapeutic one.
Here's hoping that you take the time to reflect on the goodness of those close to you.
CORRECTIONS:
In the "Questions" post, the percentages are wrong. Of course they should have read 10%, 80% and 10%.
In the "Video Success & Travel Theme," the picture of the bridge is not the Brooklyn Bridge.
Thanks Frankie, for pointing out both of these errors.
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