Did you know you are my hero?

My mom. She has always been my rock. My support. She doesn’t pull any punches with me, she never sugar coats it, the truth as she sees it is always laid bare for me to absorb. For me to learn from. When I was that horrid teenager I really did not care for her much and I made her life hell. Even in my twenties, we had a very rocky road. Now though, now we talk about everything and I realize just how many of her lessons I absorbed throughout my life.

As I have mentioned before my mom was the first and probably only woman on our block to be on her own in 1979. I remember when I was older she admitted to feeling guilt at leaving my father because some of the mothers of my friends would not let me play with my friends after that. But can you imagine how strong she had to be?

She left my dad, kept the house and began to raise not one, but two children. On her own. Without any help at all.

She learned how to drive a standard with my grandfather as her teacher. I am sure that I can imagine the conversation, the yelling that came from my grandfather, but she did it and got her license to boot.

She became the Nursing Unit Director of the psych unit at one of our hospitals. And than proceeded to work her way up and into career choices that to this day hold me in awe. She is so smart my mom. Anything she decided she wanted, she worked her ass off and got.

Her reward. The ability to retire at age fifty-five and move to Mexico. This was her dream and this she did at the end of 1999. I cried when she left. I cry every year that she leaves. I cry when she comes home. She is my mom, my best friend and I hate leaving her.

When I am with her, she gives me courage. She walks me through the plans to make my life happy. She steers me in the right direction and than wipes her hands clean and tells me that I am to get off my butt and just do it. JDI, her favorite three letters.

However, there is one thing my mom has given to me that I am failing to see in the younger generation that resides in the town I live in. I will not paint all those in this generation of 20-27 year olds with the same brush, but I see a lack of independence and cutting of the strings.

My mom, she never wanted me hanging onto her apron strings. She never wanted the bro to hang on. He just chose not to let go until she booted him out. Granted she probably did not want me to move out of the house at age eighteen but she allowed it. I mean how could she stop me?

I have stood on my own two feet forever it feels like. My mom fostered a strong sense of independence in me and a desire to do it on my own. I have some difficulty in asking for help because I should be able to do it on my own. My mom did how come I can’t?

I look at the dreams that I have. To write. There really is no other dream. I just want to write. Maybe make enough money so I could at least go down to Mexico to see my mom. Even if I do cry when I leave. (As an aside, every time I leave and I am sobbing, tears rolling down my cheeks, my middle aching with pain everyone is so concerned about me. And there is mom, assuring them that really I am fine, this is just me.)

I misinformed you. I have one other dream. My dream is that I will be a hero for my son the way my mom is my hero. We all imagine how our lives would be different if small things changed, but I know what I would be without my mom. I would be a selfish whiney girl child who blamed others for the misfortune in my life. I know this, I know she resided in me at one point and time. But mom drove her out as sure as if she was exorcising the devil.

She taught me to stand tall and firm in my beliefs. She taught me to have the strength to admit when I am wrong but to fight when I am right. She taught me to accept my weaknesses, embrace and learn from them. She did not teach me how to cook though, I can tell you that one! (Asked for the recipe for her banana bread and cookies and she could not remember either)

My mom, she has taught me all I need to know about being a strong independent woman. A woman who still needs her mom sometimes to reassure her all will be fine. A woman who has still crawled into her mother’s lap and cried her eyes out. My mom, she is awesome.

Evolution

It has become very apparent to me that I like being solitary. I enjoy my me time and making my own decisions. I like how I only need to consciously think of myself and T. I may be becoming a finer version of myself! Having said that there is nothing wrong with a little male company now and again, so long as they don’t stay too long. 😍😍😂😂

Of late I seem to have these wonderful insights within myself. There is usually a trigger but today as I sat sipping my coffee and checking my emails, I realized I like being alone. I can sit in silence, enjoying my coffee, stalking my friends on Facebook, playing games. Reading other blogs that I follow. It is not a busy day, I did all my housework yesterday as I wanted today to be just a simple day for me.

It is 2:18 p.m. and I am still in my bathrobe. So decadent. This must be what the life of luxury I have only read about, is all about. My home is clean so why not just have a day of me. That aside, let me get back to my thoughts about myself. After I wrote the above post I had the following conversation with a friend. (I will only post my half. He did think the line that they don’t stay too long was hilarious.)

“You know what I mean. Become clingy and whiney or don’t appreciate me. I am a damn good woman who has wants, desires and needs. I am not going to waste my time with someone who wants to mold me into their idea of me.

I learned a lot about myself in the last little while. Reflecting on who I have morphed into solely for the gratification of others. So they would not be uncomfortable with the woman that I am. I realized that I cannot be that person. That I need to be myself. True to myself. And I realized how lost I had become. How hidden the real me was. Much like when I was with my ex.”

Never mind that I am more creative when I am not dispensing so much energy on being the false me. My poetry is ever evolving and not always about me or my feelings. But about the scenes that I see in my mind. I find that I am finding my voice as I write my blogs and am able to see more within myself.

Insights that would be the word. And with each insight I evolve, and I grow. I am so far away from the woman that I was just one year ago as I stepped into my new life. And I am even further along than that woman of just a few weeks ago.

I am choosing to embrace life. I am choosing to embrace myself. All of me. The deep depressions, the empathy and caring spirit. The fact that I enjoy being happy. (What a weird concept, having to learn to enjoy being happy) My laughter is so much freer. I am learning about my own wants and desires. I am learning how to just be.

Forever evolving I hope to be, for stagnation I do not want to see.