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?
-----
