Saturday, June 18, 2016

Three Things I Learned Being Raised by a Single Mother

I've never really had a father to celebrate Father's Day with.

The last time I heard from my biological father was a phone call and a card when I was five.  Then just about two years ago, a social worker in Florida contacted me on Facebook, of all places.  On my daughter's first birthday, of all days.  My father, now 60 years old, was in the late stages of Parkinson's Disease and I was his only child. He was looking for me.

I had long ago grieved for, given up on, and move on from him.  My feelings were just . . . neutral.  I felt no anger towards him.  I felt no love either.  He was just a person I didn't know who didn't know me and now he wanted to.  And I was ambivalent towards him.  The relationship was . . . unnecessary for me.  That makes me sound terrible, right?  Here is a man close to the end of his life.  But the thing is that I just could not handle one more needy person in my life.  Having four young children, having two with autism, takes up most of me.  There's not a lot left over for my father.

We kept up weekly FaceTime conversations for over a year. They were awkward.  He is non-ambulatory and, although he can speak, it's difficult to understand him.  His wife did most of the talking.  But it was 30 minutes of what the weather was life, how the kids were doing, and more about the weather.  I dreaded these calls.

We haven't spoken much in the last six months.  My iPad is broken and his wife is having a lot of health problems.  The thing is I'm not willing to make the extra effort but then, neither, is seems was he. I know this makes him sad but his dream of me showing up in his room at the nursing home are just that, dreams.

I haven't sent him a Father's Day card this year.  I guess after 30+ years, I'm just not in the habit.

My stepfather, Vince, was around more often and, when the drugs weren't gripping him, he wasn't a bad father.  But he was absent physically quite a bit--prison, off getting into the trouble that put him prison, etc,--and even when he was there, he wasn't really there.  As you might imagine, his influence on my life had the exact opposite effect that most dads have on their children.  I didn't want to be a thing like him.  The good moments with him did not outweigh the bad moments, the struggle, and the heartache he put our family through. He passed away over eight years ago.

The person I'll be celebrating this Father's Day is my mom.  For the most part, she raised my sister and I on her own.  Although it wasn't easy for her.  Money was always tight.  There was always something breaking down or an added expense, but she made sure our little family survived and thrived. As I look back, I can see that she taught me so much just by her actions.

1) There's always work to be done.  My mom was never idle.  She worked a full-time job, often picked up a part time job or two.  At one point, she was working three jobs at once.  When she was home, she was cleaning, doing laundry, figuring out how to pay the bills, taking care of my sister and I and trying to pretend that everything would be okay even though I know there were days she didn't think that was true. Through this, she taught me that hard work and work ethic are important.

2)  Put other people first. My mom has spent most of her life taking care of other people. She helped out at home growing up, learning early to cook and clean.  She chose a career in the nursing field where her sole purpose was to help and take care of her patients.  And she took care of my sister and I.  I know there were times she went without so them so that my sister and I could have what we needed.  I also watched her take care of her friends and our neighbors.  She didn't have a lot to give in any capacity but she found a way to do it anyway.  She instilled in me that people are important, not stuff.  We take care of each other first before we worry about a nice car or a fancy house.  Stuff is just stuff; people are important.

3) Strength is continuing even when it's hard. I watched my mom struggle and struggle and struggle.  She had no family to help her.  She worked as a nurse's aide but the income wasn't much.  There were days when she was tired, from lack of sleep and from life.  She told me once she thought briefly about putting my sister and I in foster care because she didn't know how to do it. But she did not stop. She got up every morning when she didn't want to.  She figured out how to pay for food and gas and rent when the numbers just didn't work.  Mom never had a credit card or a checking account when I was a kid.  She used cash and when there was anymore cash, that was it.  The point is that she never gave up and, I think through it, she discovered her own strength.  I know I saw it and I learned that I wanted to be like that.

Single mamas, you may not realize it.  You may not have time to think about it too much but know that your children are watching and they are learning so much from you--the hard stuff and the good stuff.  They understand this is hard for you and that you might not be able to spend all the time and money that other moms spend on their kids. But they also understand that everything you do is for them. 

To these moms and to my mom, I say: Happy Father's Day and Happy Second Mother's Day and Happy Everything Day. 

Thank you.


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