Writerly Things 5/10/2020: Mother’s Day
Often, we forget how much our mothers might have done for us growing up. They are still there when we need them. They always will be in our hearts. Sometimes, we take them for granted until it’s too late. Let’s try to remember all the little and bigger things they did for us. After all, we wouldn’t be here without them.
The Times They Rescued Us from Faux Pas.
Have you ever done anything you regretted so much you wish you could turn back time and do it over? I have. Plenty of times. Fights with friends growing up. Losing people who meant a lot to you (not to death but just silly stuff, like not speaking up when you could and because of such, losing a boy you might’ve had a future with. Instead, by my actions or non-actions, one of my best friends stopped being a best friend and her brother, whom I really liked, faded into the past.)
I was very shy growing up and it kept me tongue-tied when it came to speaking up. It was another part of why I left college instead of defending myself, I let others push me around and left when I got afraid. I threw away a career I could’ve had and lost two more good friends. Our actions or non-actions, again, can lead us astray.
My mom picked up the pieces left of me after college and helped me pull myself together and unknowingly, helped start me on this path of writing. She had always read and encouraged me to go to the library. Oh, the time I spent there! She never batted an eye or discouraged me when I announced I would write a book. She believed in me. Something that kept me going forward.
I don’t know was more devastated by the crash of my marriage, her or me. She had thought I had this fairytale marriage going on. I hid to the outside world what things were really like within. I spent so much of my life hiding inside someone I didn’t recognize anymore. I dropped hard and it was only through her faith, through my family’s strength, that I rose above the darkness of bipolar and the brutality of my marriage.
She encouraged me to write again. I began journaling through a counselor’s advice and soon the bug to write stories gripped me once again. I started reading craft books again, watching podcasts, and delving into blogs. Little by little, I clung to the fragile strength I had left and lifted myself up. In writing, I was able to express myself. To at last, be me. Writing has brought me back to who I always was but couldn’t see.
Now, I have websites devoted to what I love to do with my time. I pour out stories, hoping they’ll be picked up and published. I write posts for another website, Two Drops of Ink. My mom is still in my corner, rooting me on. I may never get published but I know, she will always be proud of me. What I’ve done with my life. How I’ve raised my kids. I can be the mom I am because of her. Because of the strength and love she showed me. So, this day, I wish her a Happy Mother’s Day and thank her for everything’s she’s done for me and more. Without her, I wouldn’t be here. That’s the truth.