Meine Geliebte

Hello everyone, as I still travel down this journey of self discovery, I can’t go any futher without mentioning the people who are Champions in my corner.  Yes like everyone else we all have our flaws that’s what makes us fun, interesting, unique people and at times very frustrating.  This one person above all others in my life played a huge role in help shaping me into this complex personality that is before you today.  Without this person I would cease to exist.  This person complexed, interesting, strong, endearing, sad, broken, magentic, flawed, beautiful, beautiful, my beloved mother.

Meine Geliebte…. German for “My Beloved” mom is the topic of today blog.  As I stated before I can not go on without mentioning the beauty of my late mother.  After yesterday’s post (pleurer dans mon ombre/crying in my shadow) I got to thinking about the good people in my life and what they mean to me and the most influential person is my beloved mom.  My mother was a strong, hard, complexed and determined woman she had to be she was the single mother of 6 kid in which I am the youngest.

me and mom in 76
me & my beloved mom

She and my father divorced when I was 6.  My father left us for another woman who had kids not by him.  My father became dad to these kids so when he left, he left.  My sister and I she’s seven years older would get the monthly visits from Daddy only because it was part of the divorce.  The other 4 siblings two sisters and two brothers where older in High School and didn’t have to play the divorce game. It was my beloved my mom that was always there and for this reason I became very clingy to her.  As I grew up all that changed.  I started moving further away and as I did my relationship with my beloved became strained.  We clashed on EVERYTHING. As mother daughters do we fought all the time.  I felt that my beloved cared more for my older siblings then she did me.  I felt that she didn’t see me at all. Okay let’s be honest here I felt as if my mother didn’t like me not only not liking me she hated me after all I was told I was the accident.  Because of this I became the big mouth, the ass-kicker of the family. Always seeking the love, the loyality I felt I didn’t get at home elsewhere. I would spend my entire adult life trying to overcome and compensate for feeling not wanted. I would spend a lot of time, money in therapy.  Then a remarkable thing happen, I got a dream job, the job of a life time the only problem is the job didn’t pay shit. Not enough to secure and sustain a place to live.  I found myself living out of my car. Not quite homeless because I had income.  Again with my addictive personality, the addict in me wasn’t drawn to drugs or drink, my addiction was to determination.  I was determined to make this work.  I was determined to turn my dream job into something that I can be proud of and then in turn my beloved would see me as a success and be proud.  I tough it out for 6 months.  Living out of my car, washing in hotel bathrooms, taking showers at work or the gym, using the laundry mat, eating out at fast food places on 99 cents menu all working this dream job.  It was a desparate time but I was fucking determined. As always I would do my weekly call home talking to my mom about the Lakers (shaq & kobe), Dodgers, church, her health and she would always ask how am I’m doing and of course my response is great I love my dream job.

Then one day my world came to a crashing halt.  It’s as if someone said “hey girlie, your in the wrong place” casting me out of the clouds into the bowels of Hell.  My dream job turned out to be a shit job that I would eventually leave (that’s another story), I me and momadiscovered lumps under my arm, I was scared nobody every want to hear the “C” word after the tests came back there it was in black and white cancer. My weekly call to home went on as expected only this time I wasn’t my normal happy jolly self.  I tried to mask what was going on because I didn’t want to be a big disappointment.  My mother was chatting away then she stopped I can hear her crying and she said to me “it’s time for you to come home” you really need to come home. As if she knew what was happening in my life.  I don’t how my mother my beloved found out but she knew not only did she knew she knew of my situation before anyone else did. I asked her what is she talking about but before I can get the words out she told me she was proud and I have nothing to be ashamed about.  She told me it’s time to stop running, and just come home.  So I did go home and it wouldn’t be the first time or the last.

What I realized is that I am my mother all the things she instilled in us, the determination, the love, the respect all of it started with her.  She allowed me to live my truth, learned the lessons I needed to learn, gave me the space I needed to figure things out, allowing me to draw my own conclusions and come up with solutions, all the time silently waiting, always silently waiting with open arms.

This blog post is dedicated to you mom.

Everyday my heart aches from missing you.

moma in seventies
10/22/35  12/13/09

 

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No one will every love me the way my beloved mother did!

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