I was reading a blog post yesterday that so hit home. It was talking about black motherhood and how many times there are layers upon layers of things that play key factors into causing mothers to not be the parents they once were or would like to be. In this particular post it was instability, lack of finances and a husband/father with a drug addiction.
This was relatable bc I was once a part of that scenario. However for the longest time, I didn’t see my mother through the eyes of grace. I saw all of what I thought that I didnt get growing up.
I didn’t factor in that she had her first child at 18 and was the mother of 3 by the time she was 23. I didnt consider the fact that the abuse that she suffered at the hands of my father more than likely caused depression and emptiness. I didnt see that her loosing her mother at the tender age of 12, then playing a key part in raising her other siblings and not having a good relationship with her step-mother probably shaped the way in which she interacted with others. Or the simple fact that she had been through so much by the time she had me at 28…honestly she was understandably worn out by life in just about every way.
I didn’t give my mother enough credit. All that she went through was rough and more than I could take but she survived. There wasn’t a time when I didn’t have a roof over my head or where she wasn’t employed. My needs were met and she stayed. I wasn’t in the system and she made sure that my niece wasn’t either. I always held a place of resentment in my heart from her making me have an abortion at 14 years old…never thinking that she made that decision bc she knew what being a teenage mom looked like and she saw something more in me. She never spoke bad about my father (when she could have) and always let me make my own decision about having a relationship with him.
Depression. Addiction. Lack of childhood. No one to really model/teach about womanhood and motherhood. Singleness. Being the only Provider. Crushing Memories. Unrecognized Feelings of Agony, Grief, Pain, and Abuse.
Dear Mama…I wish I could tell you I see your pain. I recognize your strength. And that grace covers it all.