I owe the mom I am today to my own mother. This time every year I reflect on what kind of mom I am and what kind of mother gave birth to me.
Because of her absence, I am present, every day, every second. Because of her recklessness, I am responsible. Because of her abuse, I am patient. Because of her addiction, I pick my babies before anything and anyone.
My mother never witnessed my prom, or saw me in my wedding dress. She wasn’t by my side through my first heartbreak =. She won’t cheer for me as I walk across the stage with my bachelors degree. She will never meet my husband or her beautiful grandchildren. She’ll never be able to encourage me as a mother. Some days I’m bitter but most days it drives me to be the mother I am today.
Everyday I look at my babies and I know that I will be there to witness everything from their first tee ball game to their their last high school football game. I get to watch them give me the cutest grin when they make a race track out of a whole roll of toilet paper. I get to hear ” Mommy play baby shark” or “Mommy I wuv you”. I get to be the safe place for my newborn when he’s inconsolable and only wants to be held by me. I get to be my two year olds best friend. I get to make their unforgettable and memorable.
As I raise my two boys, its not me I feel sorry for. Its my own mother for missing out on the most unconditional and pure love there is.
We get 18 years with our babies. 18 years to show them how much they mean to us. I think that makes us the lucky ones.