I apologize to those who were waiting for the next installment of “If You Should Choose this Mission.” I will start the excerpt back again on Friday. Also if you tuned in for a poem, I apologize again. I will put up a poem next Sunday.
I knew Mother’s Day was in the wind with all the commercials on radio and TV. I am not one for sending out gifts and cards. So to all of you who are mothers, Happy Mother’s Day. May you have a great day.
I am a not-Mother. Some of my earliest memories included holding tightly to my sister’s hand while we walked across the street. We were like little ducklings following my mother as we went to a convenience store a couple of blocks away. She was carrying my third sister and was probably pregnant with my fourth sister.
Before my third sister came around, my second sister and I would play on swings in the backyard or race down the sidewalks in front of the house. At the time my parents delivered papers for a major San Francisco newspaper at night or early morning. They would be asleep in the house as we played. Already at an early age, I had rules that I had to follow. My job was to keep my second sister safe.
It was a lot of responsibility to put into the hands of a four year old.
I had a lot of anger for my mother. I was her confidant, her maid, and sometimes her whipping boy. She was pregnant a lot when I was a child and teenager. Nine times to be exact– or at least a minimum of nine. It seemed she was pregnant all the time. It wasn’t bad during those times because she slept a lot.
It was afterwards when the baby was born. Now as an adult, I wonder if she had post partum depression. (sometimes I slip and say post mortum depression–)
Still it was wonderful the first time I left home to go to college. It was quiet and I could think. There is no privacy in a house with eleven people.
I am a not-Mother because my four brothers talk to me like I raised them. Well yes, I did. They introduce me to girlfriends who are now wives. I am introduced to nieces and nephews like I am important and not just an Aunt.
I didn’t have my own children for several reasons. One, I was tired of raising children when I left home. Two, I didn’t want a child as a single woman. I already knew the effort needed to raise a child. Three, I didn’t get married until my early thirties. My husband had already raised his children.
So I am a not-Mother and a Grandmother.