My parents separated when my siblings and I were quite young—me at the age of five, my younger sister at two, and the youngest just five months old. Following the divorce, we moved in with my grandparents, where we lived for the next twelve years.
My parents had wed at a young age; my mother was expecting me on her 21st birthday. Instead of celebrating at a bar with friends, she indulged in a large ice cream sundae. As she embraced motherhood, she had to prioritize work over her college education to support our family. Fortunately, living with her parents post-divorce allowed her the opportunity to return to school and complete her degree. She was driven, ambitious, and determined.
Returning to education meant juggling night classes and considerable homework, which unfortunately translated to less time spent with her children. While she maintained a full-time job, my siblings and I primarily relied on our grandmother, who was a stay-at-home caregiver. We craved our mother’s presence, often feeling neglected and confused. Children find it difficult to grasp the concepts of sacrifice and responsibility. I can’t speak for my sisters, but I often felt isolated.
Despite the emotional struggles, I took pride in my mother’s achievements. When I was in second grade, she graduated from college with honors, an impressive feat I barely comprehended. I excitedly shared with my teacher that my mother graduated “Magna Colada,” a humorous blunder that now feels like a fitting cocktail name for those who persevere through college.
My mother worked as a columnist for a newspaper, often featuring stories about my sisters and me. She even won an award for her writing when I was in third grade, which I proudly boasted about to my classmates.
Understanding the Challenges of Motherhood
Now, as a mother myself, I’m beginning to comprehend the challenges my mom faced. At the time, I couldn’t fathom why she didn’t return home after long, arduous days to play with me. I didn’t understand her need for some downtime at the end of her workday, nor did I see that her limited patience had nothing to do with me personally.
As a child, I felt hurt, believing she was not the kind of mother I saw in others’ homes. I thought she was emotionally distant in ways that left me feeling rejected.
Now, as a working mother, I relate to the exhaustion of balancing responsibilities. I’m fortunate to work part-time from home, motivated by passion rather than financial necessity. Yet, even with fewer burdens, I still find myself worn out at the end of the day.
Reflecting on my childhood, I realize how significant the toll was on my relationship with my mother. As I grew older, I oscillated between feelings of unworthiness and resentment. In my teenage years, I rebelled against her, seeking attention through unconventional clothing choices and music preferences. Our relationship was strained, often resulting in conflict.
Rebuilding Our Relationship
However, as an adult, our dynamic improved, primarily because we no longer lived together. Despite enjoyable moments, the connection remained fragile, with past grievances occasionally resurfacing in heated arguments.
At 26, I became a mother myself, and my mom’s joy upon learning of my pregnancy was palpable. In a cherished moment, we revealed the news using a Christmas gift—a bib that read, “Grandmas Give The Best Hugs.” Her excitement for becoming a grandmother was as great as our anticipation for parenthood. She chose the name “Lala,” which would soon become special to our family.
The first night we returned home from the hospital, my mom arrived early to clean the house and prepare dinner. As she held my newborn, I felt a sense of care and support that mirrored what I had longed for as a child.
Our frequent lunches and her affectionate interactions with my son allowed me to witness the nurturing relationship I had wished for. She encouraged me to take breaks, shower, or shop while she looked after him. The love she showered on him, encapsulated in countless photos and embraces, brought warmth to my heart. Our FaceTime calls became filled with laughter, as my son delighted in seeing his Lala.
When my daughter arrived a few years later, the cycle repeated. Watching my children interact with their grandmother, hearing my son’s enthusiasm for sleepovers at her house, has been one of the greatest joys of motherhood. This experience has helped me understand the kind of mother my mom aspired to be. It has made me grateful to embody the nurturing parent I always wanted to be. My children are blessed with a grandmother who adores and indulges them, always available when they need her.
Finding Healing and Appreciation
Recognizing that the loving grandmother my mom has become reflects the mother she wished to be has been both healing and bittersweet. Parenting demands everything from you, and she poured herself into us, but she had her limits. This understanding, though tinged with sadness, has allowed me to appreciate the sacrifices she made.
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Summary
The author reflects on their complicated relationship with their mother, shaped by childhood experiences during their parents’ divorce and their mother’s pursuit of education and a career. As an adult and a mother, they gain new insights into their mother’s sacrifices and the challenges of parenting, ultimately fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the bond they share.