Tag Archives: United States

I wish I could say I dont love you anymore

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Dear Absent,

It angers me that I miss you and still find myself  looking for your face in every crowd…I miss your smile and the way you made me feel, not just on the outside but on the inside as well, I felt so alive with you, so loved and understood. I never believed you would ever really leave even though you warned me from the beginning…I am having trouble forgiving you, mostly because you havent called and asked, in fact I have no idea where you really are now that I have been shown your tangled  web of lies…I pray we have more than one soulmate in this life because I know you and I were written in the stars but that I can never take you back and hold onto a shred of self respect. Sometimes I think your dead and thats why you havent called but then the memory comes crashing down like a tidal wave and I feel myself beginning to drown in the realization that you have had many opportunities.  I am sure of it  and in this world of technology even though we have both changed numbers many times, I know you would come find me if thats what you really wanted. Afterall you are my Maguyver and have found me every other time…If you come you know I would still run to you with open arms, even if against my will, but I will always doubt your love and that leaves us broken…I wish I could honestly say that I didnt love you but I am not the liar, you are…

Forever and Always,

Your Baby

Aside

 

The Meanest Mother
By Bobbie Pingaro, ©1967

 

I had the meanest mother in the whole world.

While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids’ also.

But at least, I wasn’t alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.

My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we’d be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less–not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy’s pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.

We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?

The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn’t sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.

She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.

By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I’d had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.

Through the years, things didn’t improve a bit. We could not lie in bed, “sick” like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends’ report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks.

As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a drop-out.

My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You’re right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults.

Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.

 

The Meanest Mot…

God Given Tools of Survival

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Do you ever feel a desperate need to crawl into bed and sleep the day away, even when you havent missed a dose of your anti-depressants, which many Americans are put on by their doctors instead of ever fixing the underlying problem instead… I have noticed that our bodies are very resilient and more in control of ‘the human condition’ than we are aware of, Sleep brings us a sort of peace that is sometimes impossible to find while awake  with a mind thats racing and hearts breaking into a million pieces, just like the numbness that sets in after a trauma, we as humans have a way of subconsciously taking care of ourselves even when on the outside it feels as if we have no idea what the hell we are supposed to be doing! So I say if you need to nap once in awhile to quietly process what life throws your way, grab your wubby, close your eyes and thank God for the built in tools he gave us, to survive this journey and make it thru another day!