SHE STILL IS MY MOTHER

She is an endless topic I write about. For starters her story before I even came into the picture is not only amazing but commendable. Hers is truly to say making something out of literally nothing. Moved to a strange land with a determination fit for any man 6 feet or taller. Never believed in not but always believed in trying at her best before saying she can’t. I must say there wasn’t much that she didn’t accomplish and set out to do I her lifetime. Raised her kids, lost 2 and still managed to raise a grandson. Through it all she broke, was broken, sacrificed, never stopped and made it with no education at all.

Provider by all means and had no problem rocking with the best of them. Did she have her faults, fuck yeah! Raised as an orphan, a hated, not wanting to be taken care of, taking up space orphan. Having no parents by the time she was 7. To see her grandmother wither away. To be abused from an early age from family she still took to her dreams and made them happen. It is this reason alone that she will never return to Puerto Rico, the land of her birth. It has served her memories of hardship and pain.

It is her story that I understand all the why’s of my childhood. It is in her story that I was able to understand why she wasn’t so loving, why there wasn’t an abundance of hugs, an over joy of all there was to be a child. I was able to find forgiveness for all her shortcomings. No one ever told her to dream. She until this day enjoys singing but it was immediately stifled and frowned upon the  minute she announced that she wanted to be a singer. Not to mention that they always called her ugly, worthless, piece of shit, nappy and stupid. Through all of that when she bore her children she cared for them in the way she never was taken care of. She worked, slaved and made sure they had the essentials. Pernil for every holiday. Pasteles on the Christmas and New Year’s. New clothes for the first and last day of school. She even made sure they did all the Catholic passages of Communion and Conformation, something that she never did.  Shit I am even surprised that with everything that happened to her at such a young age she even believed in GOD.

With all this being said there is no way that I was ever able to hold a grudge. She always did the best to her knowledge for her kids. They never went without and gave them by any means necessary. I may not have had mom of the year by others standards and some tragedies have happened to me that will forever alter my life but I don’t blame her. She is and always be my mother. I never ever desired another mom. I never had the urge to runaway nor kill myself.

When I came out the closet she never hit me nor chastised me for it. She looked at me accepted as much as a non-educated mom could. She told me that I am her son no matter what and that she loves me always. Her love never changes. That was all I needed to hear. To me that was all I cared about. Everyone who didn’t love me or accept me made no matter in my life. Mom loved me and didn’t throw me out like so many others I have heard happened to them when they came out the closet.

Her alcoholism was covering all her pain from past, the death of not 1 but 2 daughters, the rapes she endured at a very early age, the hurt and pain and abuse the men that were supposedly loved her afflicted on her, add the old school upbringing that you never speak of these things, you never heal from these things, you eat them up and digest them and keep it moving, life is a shitty deal and that’s it. All these things kept her the way she was- rigid, stern, hard-working, tough but a mother no less. A mother that would do anything for her children. So  no I am not mad at her for my upbringing, no I am not holding a grudge against her for not being the mother I wanted her or thought she should’ve been. She did the best and more with what she was shown, given and had and for that I will always love my momma!

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