Major Things I Learned from my Mother
“What if Mother remarried? Would you accept it?”
“No way, are you crazy?” It was more of a nod than spoken words; a fast nodding “NAH”.
Unthinkable. Despicable. Unacceptable.
What was so insulting or sacred about it? (Nothing.) Did Mother not deserve to be happy? (Of course she did.) But the thought of having an outsider in the house was distressing. I didn’t think for a second (maybe because I couldn’t articulate it) about her happiness.
It was not my mother’s style, I much later learned. But there was my optimistic sister taking a poll — and I guess she thought it’d be a fantastic idea to ask a 12-year-old (who’d never been outside of her 158 square miles city limit) about her thoughts on love and happiness.
Truth is nothing would’ve changed if I’d said yes, but I still catch myself thinking about that question every now and then.
Would I have wanted my mother to remarry? If it meant the weight over her shoulders would be lighter: then f-ck YES.
I fought my upbringing’s beliefs every step of the way. I complained a lot; mostly silently, but I did because I couldn’t understand so much custody and forbiddance. My friends were allowed to go to parties; my friends were allowed to have boyfriends; they could go on excursions without chaperones. My friends didn’t have family meetings to pray a rosary and touch base with one another… But, wait… there it is. My mother knew something about boundaries and foundations, perhaps because as a single mother she felt she needed to be in control.
She had to know about our whereabouts at all times, our friends, even the kind of TV shows and music we listened to. I didn’t get it then.
So much happened since adolescence that I could barely catch the moments when I started to grow. Somewhere in the fog, I woke up one day with furrowed eyebrows as I thought: holy sh-t, this woman essentially gave it all up for me and my siblings. Her entire life was about just trying to protect us.
I’ve been resentful at times and it took too long to see through my anger that my newly found strength, wisdom, and maturity weren’t so new after all. It was all being built silently, underneath my complaints and reluctant obedience. Or maybe I had it in me all along, passed down from my mother, but I couldn’t see and embrace it because I had to go through the life lessons first. Why can’t we never skip through the life lessons?!
I am nothing but thankful today that her shielding was strong, long-lasting, sincere… I owe her so much. As a grownup with my own life to maneuver now and in which I’ve had to steer off the road many times along the way, I can’t believe my mom could play all those roles, for seven lives, and not stumble. And even though I would’ve liked for her to have found a bit of company, I can’t believe she has avoided romantic love all this time. (How on Earth does one do that?)
She did it all by herself. That’s incredible. That’s beyond admirable.
Today I stand tall and proud because I know my foundation is resilient; because it was strengthened by my mom.
