I was feeling down today and did the natural thing. I called my mom. She was still asleep when I woke her but refused to get off the phone. She always brings about a smile. I love her so much for that and at times hate myself for choosing to settle so far a distance from her.
She called me a few days ago and hinted that perhaps I no longer loved her because my calls were so sparse as of late. I often think that moving to New York City and not being able to be near to provide support makes me the proverbial bad son.
She has been great my entire life and has always been there when needed. A month after I was born I almost died on her. I was in ICU for two weeks. I know that had to be a scary ordeal for her. After, I developed bronchitis and asthma which required me being taken in once or twice a week to the emergency room for steroid injections.
Mom always had to give twice as much love to make up for beatings. Dad had a hard-on for hitting me and mom was always there to get in the way of the slaps, sometimes punches, and his incessant name calling. Fagot was his favorite even long before I ever knew what it meant. While embarrassed, bruised, and in tears she was always there to coddle me and call me her chinito, her cocito.
Poverty, abuse, bad grades, and constant insecurity were the makings of one hell of a troubled childhood. It was mami that suffered most and always tried her best to share well meant advice which I annoyingly received, as quickly as I dismissed.
I left home when I was barely turning 17 and have never gone back. The visits became fewer and farther apart over the years. At times weeks go by without my calling her. Despite the fact that we never talk about it I know that she assumes some level of responsibility for my independent detached nature. I wish she wouldn’t.
I can’t however change the past or how difficult living in at home was for me. I spent my entire childhood vainly trying to gain the attention and affections of a man who often seemed like he couldn’t care less. And now every time that I fall for someone who couldn’t care less, someone attempts to make me feel less than or end up heartbroken, it’s my mom that I call.
She is my world despite the fact that I have made it my business to live a world apart from her.
it never ceases to amaze me the ability of how a mother can ease a strenous situation at any given time.
i was on the verge of losing my cool with the b.s. @ work, and had to walk out and take a break.
long story short, after a 10 minute conversation with my mom, it felt like the day just started all over again.
even though half of the it was her trying to convince me to move back to fl, just hearing her was enough for me to feel like i could go through my day again.
I was a bit startled when I read your post because what you wrote in those few words are so similar - almost exact to my experiences with my mother and father. This post resonates with me.