As a child, I often looked longingly at my friends whose mothers actively engaged in school events—those who would pop in during the day to assist with art projects, accompany us on field trips, or sneak extra treats into our lunches. My mother, however, was a single mom, and while she would have loved to participate, her time was limited. She reserved her sick days solely for when her children were unwell. As a dedicated special education teacher, she spent her days in the classroom and her afternoons nurturing my imaginative and sensitive sister and me. There was always a sense of urgency; she had no spare moments to give.
This was far from what she had envisioned. As a young girl, she dreamed of having a big family—perhaps even eight children! Over time, that dream faded, but her excitement for motherhood remained. She envisioned days filled with laughter, creativity, and joy, much like her own carefree childhood in the 1950s. She imagined a family dynamic where a father would provide and a mother would lovingly tend to the home.
While my father was kind-hearted, he struggled to meet her expectations as a spouse or provider. In my early years, he worked sporadically, while my mother took on most of the childcare responsibilities. Over time, it became evident that they had diverging dreams for their family life; my father pursued his political ambitions, leaving my mother to shoulder the bulk of family duties.
Their separation occurred right after my younger sister was born. I eventually learned, after becoming a mother myself, that my mother had spent the first 18 months of my sister’s life relying on the proceeds from a condo sale, government support, and assistance from her parents. She longed to be present for my sister’s early years, just as she had been for me. Even after returning to work, financial strain persisted, and it took her a decade to achieve full independence. We had our needs met, but not much beyond that.
Now, as I navigate my eighth year as a (mostly) full-time mom to my two boys, I feel incredibly blessed. Despite the challenges of motherhood—its monotony, its exhaustion, and the occasional loneliness—it truly feels miraculous to be present for my children. I cherish the moments when my partner returns home after a long day, grateful for the shared vision of family life we’ve created together. Though finances can be tight, our commitment to our children’s needs remains unwavering. My upbringing taught me that a parent’s presence is invaluable.
I understand that not every family aspires to this type of traditional setup. Many women seek careers outside the home, and for some families, it’s financially unfeasible for one parent to stay at home. I’m aware that not every household is made up of two loving, capable parents. I am genuinely thankful for the choice I have to be either a homemaker or a working professional.
Above all, my gratitude extends to my mother. Despite financial pressures and her fatigue from long days, she was my steadfast support. She did her utmost with the resources available, shaping me into the woman and mother I am today. I always knew I could count on her—she was my anchor amid the uncertainties of my childhood.
Now, enjoying her retirement after over two decades of teaching, she continues to be a pillar of support. She is always ready to drop everything to lend a hand with my children. Sometimes, I feel guilty asking for help, remembering how little assistance she had while raising us. Yet, she finds joy in being with us.
I’m thrilled that my children are growing up alongside her. I want them to experience her in this joyful, carefree chapter of her life. I hope they remember her strumming “This Little Light of Mine” on her guitar, rolling on the floor with them in fits of laughter, and embodying strength and resilience. I want them to feel her unwavering love, a light that brightens our lives.
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Summary
In my journey as a mother, I reflect on the profound influence my own mother has had on me. Despite the struggles of single parenthood, she provided unwavering support and love. As I embrace my role as a mother, I appreciate the choices I have, the memories my children will create with their grandmother, and the lessons learned from my mother’s resilience.