Sunday, May 12, 2013
"I ain't got nobody to love me
I ain't got nobody to hold me
I ain't got nobody to squeeze me
I'm just a motherless child
I'm just a motherless child"
It's Mother's Day here in the US. Normally this is a day that doesn't bother me, in fact I don't even normally think about it. My mother has been gone for 40 years this year (in 15 days to be exact) so Mother's Day to me hasn't been a big deal.
For some reason this year, the fact that I am a "motherless child" is bothering me. I can't really say that I miss my mother, I was 3 days shy of my fifth birthday when she died, so it's very hard to miss someone you never knew. But maybe that's what's bothering me -- the fact that I have no idea who she was, what she was like, what made her laugh, what she believed in, what she would have thought of me as an adult now.
Maybe it's bothering me this year, because I am the same age she was when she was pregnant with me. From what my aunt, her sister, told me when I was growing up, they didn't know what to expect. The doctor had given them a HUGE list of things that might be wrong with me because of her "advanced" age and the lack of prenatal testing that exists today.
A few days ago, it was what would have been my parent's 48th anniversary, and I changed my facebook profile picture to the only picture I have that was taken on their wedding day. My husband commented how much I look like my mother (he's not the first to make that comment) and asked me what she was like. I had to say "I don't know."
My memories of her a very, very few and some I wonder if I really remember or if I just have a picture of a photograph in my head. What do I remember? I remember one morning when I woke up very early, before my dad went to work, sitting on her lap, having toast dunked in her coffee while they talked before he left for the day. I remember having my mouth washed out with soap, I don't remember what I said though. I remember sitting next to her chair, while she watched a soap opera (Days of Our Lives, maybe) and she brushed my hair. I remember seeing her in her casket, which is probably not your typical childhood memory of a mother.
Is there a point to all of this? No not really. I'm not looking for sympathy or pity or anything like that. In most ways, I've come to terms with the fact that I am a motherless child a very long time ago (plus my dad ROCKED when I was growing up), but maybe this year, if you remember my mom, you can share a memory or two with me. I would love to know what she was like.