I am a mom.
More than anything, I am a mom.
I feel the responsibility that comes with that title.
OH I FEEL IT!
I feel it like a mack truck in the spleen.
I recently wrote about the difference between being “pretty” and “beautiful“.
Then another difference hit me at the same time these words crossed my path “ YOU’VE HEARD WHAT I’VE DONE, NOT WHAT I’VE BEEN THROUGH“.
If you’re reading this post you’ve probably been through the last years of my life in some fashion and shared in my struggles to some degrees.
As much as I have felt and appreciated the support that got me through many tough times, you probably know my story as well as I know yours.
I might know the highlight points, but I can’t know the thoughts that keep you awake at night.
I might read what you choose to tell me of your situation, but I don’t get the finite details that make your vagina shrivel up and a pan of brownies your faithful companion.
Even my when my very best friend was going through her hardest time and shared her innermost fears and thoughts I COULDN’T REALLY KNOW WHAT SHE WAS GOING THROUGH.
As a mother I ache to relieve my kids of the burdens I know they’ll go through.
The natural ones caused by growing up.
The hurtful ones caused by some people for being not-white.
The helpless ones they feel watching the youngest go through cancer treatment and dealing with my handicaps.
I can’t take these burdens FROM them.
I can try my hardest to SHOW them how *I* deal and cope and hope they will give whatever they have seen work a try.
Because, REALLY I can only afford so much bail.
And meth is a really nasty “coping mechanism”.
HOW DO YOU REACH YOUR KIDS AND SHOW YOU’RE SYMPATHIZING WHEN YOU CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND?
photo credit: link