I grew up with my mother as my father vanished quite early in my life, I only saw him several times growing up. These visits stopped before my teens. Luckily, my mother had the help of my grandparents who were always there to help her take care of me. I remember that they loved having me over and my grandfather happily jumped on his bike to pick me up at school during the lunch break, bringing me back on his bike right on time before the break ended.
I can still recall how much fun my grandfather and I had when he picked me up or brought me back to school, we were laughing out loud about silly things and we were really close during these years.
Which was very hard as she was mostly hired by these recruitment agencies instead of being under contract by an employer directly. During my childhood, I've seen her switch jobs so often even though she was often appreciated most because of her good care for the patients. She never allowed these new strict rules to become the norm of helping patients within X minutes if they needed something else. This may have been the issue of not hiring her directly, after all, it's all about the money.
Whenever she was out of a job, my grandparents would help her a little more than usual and then we'd eat at their house more often as well my grandparents gave her some money as well as paying for groceries. To me, it was normal that they helped, but as a child, even though I saw her struggle, I probably never really knew how hard it was for her to be a single mother.
I can't lie and say we were a great pair, we had fun moments for sure, but I remember the shitty things far better than the good things because we simply didn't understand each other well. I never had issues dealing with my grandmother or grandfather, I loved being there, but when I was alone with my mother, we'd usually get into arguments and fight. I was always happy when I could stay over at my grandparents' house or had a sleepover with a friend.
She probably wanted to drink away her sorrows as I can mostly remember a big part of my childhood where I'd find loads of empty bottles in the kitchen and her being drunk when I'd walk inside at night to get some water or something. Probably also because of the drinking and the aftermath from this when she was working, she wasn't very aware of what went down at school or what I needed for guidance during these years.
Such as following the big chunk of the girls of my school who went to a school which I didn't feel a connection with at all. But I was afraid to go somewhere alone as well as had no clue how to find the right school for me without help. She never bothered to try and help and I didn't feel comfortable asking so I just said I wanted to go to that school and she saw that it was a good choice to find a job later, so she agreed.
If she knew me a bit, she'd have known this school was the worst one to choose and I'd be bored and sick of it really soon. I wish she'd paid a bit more attention to who I was and what I liked and what my skills were. I felt alone in this period by having to guide myself through it without having any internet or the skills (and confidence) to ask around for guidance.
Four years before this school, when I was 11/12, we had this big test all kids have to take in the last grade of lower school. This is to determine what your level is and what advice they give you for your future education. Out of 550 points, I scored 548 which was the second highest of our year at this school. Looking at that score, I could have gone to the next higher level and then follow up to a university. The hopes were high, but I didn't feel like it. I hated the school and when the second year was over, the year before you move forward to your actual level, I scored so badly that I had to go to the lowest level at that school.
I was afraid to bring home my report when it came and she was actually clueless. As a mother, I can't even imagine not being on top of these things. I mean, this was a huge difference from the advice that was given and simply caused by my being bored and hating school (so I often didn't go) and she didn't even notice.
The good thing is, I finished the four years within that level as one of the best students with my fingers in my nose because I skipped class as often as I could when having certain classes I hated, but still managed to pass the exams as one of the bests in my year. I remember one of these mean girls saying "You passed? How's that possible, you're never here!" needless to say she was jealous because she was always there and didn't pass, lol.
Learning from my mother's mistakes, I've taken these things as a good reminder to myself to do things differently, hoping that this would work better. I would have loved for her to see me for who I was and have that connection with me to at least try to guide me a bit more. I got so used to not being watched by her that I started partying at the age of 15/16 and went a bit overboard as well because nobody was paying attention anyway.
Of course, at the time, when I was at that age, I loved being able to go partying without much time restrictions and being able to sleep all through the next day, but looking back, things could have gone terribly wrong and she'd not have a clue where I was. It's a pretty scary thought.
Also, some food-related stuff that she could have done so much smarter, it would have really made me complain a lot less and mostly eat a lot more of the food she served me. One example that still grosses me out thinking about it, she had these ways of adding vinegar to every salad and I hated it to the point that it made me almost go sick. I didn't mind eating cucumber without anything else, so I often asked her please only give me a piece of the cucumber so I have something green instead of the salad containing cucumber, tomatoes, and lettuce with the vinegar dressing. She rather forced me making it worse for me than to give me my way. Thankfully, my grandparents had a better approach. There are tons of these examples which often go through my mind now being a parent of a child who doesn't like most food.
While she was already very ill a year and a half ago, she sent me a message and apologized for her wrongdoings. I was not specified or anything but her saying sorry was something that was new to me and I appreciated that she did that. This also made me realize she was probably more ill than we knew as we live so far away and didn't have contact for all these years.
I'm glad she acknowledged that it was difficult how she handled a lot of things but I also know that she probably did what she could within her abilities. She was a broken woman, often lonely and without friends, and also bipolar. When my grandmother died, the tight team of grandparents helping out was broken as my grandfather lived in sorrow all the years after that, so she probably felt quite helpless herself, especially when she became more ill. The only thing I can do now is learn from her mistakes and try to do better within my ability, at least I have a partner standing next to me, that helps a lot.
My mother passed away last month, I hope she rests in peace.
All pictures used are my own.
