I was almost five years old when my mother and father separated, the logical thing to do was go with my mother, she was what they called the breadwinner of my family and we realized how much she had tolerated in the marriage and how she had to go through so much to raise six children by herself while still being married.
Even at a child, I noticed that my father didn’t do much for us as he could have. He was a saint no doubt and a good father but when you sacrifice so much of yourself for others, you hardly have enough to give to your family.
When my mother left, we set off on a journey to another state, and even at that age, I could see the pain in my mother’s eyes, she had done all that could be done and even though she left, it didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt.
My mother being the woman that she was had already made plans and even though where we had moved to didn’t feel like a bed of roses, it was a bed anyways and we could rest our heads.
Our new home was a box-like looking shop separated into two so my mother could have a space for her business while we stayed in the other half, and on days where it was hot, it felt like we were on a grill because well there were no windows on our half.
I couldn’t have been happier though and it staying there did help bring me and my siblings closer than ever, I guess lack of space would do that to you.
I can vividly remember the fights I had with my mother and how protective she was, I guess she didn’t want us to make the same mistakes that she thought she did, and even though thinking back I was angry, now I understand why.
I never really saw my dad so my mother had the strong responsibility of being both parents to 3 boys and 3 guys and she did pretty great if I would say so myself. We never lacked a thing and if it was love we needed, we had plenty in our box.
We finally moved out to our house seven years later, staying in a store for almost a decade would surely teach you a thing or two but the major thing it taught me was "how family meant everything".
My mother struggled and fought to build a home so we could move in, took debts to send me to the best of schools, and crawled so we could run.
A mother’s love is what I know and it has always been what I gave.
The love that never let’s go, the one that constantly corrected, a lot that came with sacrifices and that could move mountains so I could walk on a plain. My mother gave all her oxygen so we could breathe and survive and I would never be able to pay her back.
A picture of I and my mother
I have always wanted to be like my mother but Now that I think of it, I don’t even think I could be her, I think she used all our strength to give us a fighting chance.
Thank you for opening this box of passion