Being reminded of who you are

I once had to remind my Mom of how strong she was. I’m not sure what was going on – either Dad had separated from her, moving in with his 80 year old Mom, or she had cancer. It all blurred together that year, one bad thing dovetailing into another.

She was alone, and frightened.  She had me, but I was 24, still living at home.  I was in college, working part time.  It wasn’t enough to support us, but she didn’t want me to quit college and go to work full time.  She never got to go to college and it was important to her that I finish.  Dad was sending some money, but it wasn’t enough.  She had to get a job.

She set her sights low. She thought about going to work in a gas station.  It was simple – no experience necessary.  I didn’t like the idea because there was a risk of it being robbed.  I also knew that she could do better.  She’d managed a call center, many years before, when I was in kindergarten. She’d forgotten about that – and she’d forgotten about even earlier than that.

When she first came to America, she came to stay with a pen pal.  The pen pal wasn’t much of a pal – the situation got worse very fast, and she couldn’t stay with her.  Perhaps there had been a misunderstanding of what was expected.  Perhaps the friend was just a jerk.

In spite of this, Mom didn’t go back home to England. She stayed here, found a job, found an apartment.  She took care of herself and then met the person she was to marry. And she did it all by herself.

She’d forgotten how strong she was, way back then, in her 20s.  Surely she was even stronger now in her 50s.  She could handle it.  She’d done so much more since then – run a house by herself for one. My Dad wasn’t interested in cooking or cleaning or repairs or yardwork.  She’d been the president of the PTA.  She ran my Girl Scout troop after the leader quit at the first meeting.  She was always filling in where others dropped the ball and doing a great job.  She had no training and no experience, but she knew when something had to be done that someone had to do it, so she did.

We forget ourselves.  We forget how strong we are.  So when something unexpected and hard comes up, we think it is the first time we’ve climbed that mountain.  We’ve climbed Everest.  It was years ago, but we climbed it – when we handled our parent’s estate, or stood up to a bully, or left an abusive boyfriend or husband, or gotten a PhD, or any number of things.  Life is full of mountains.  It is just that when we get into the long flat stretches that we forget.  Remember your mountains, and they will help you get over this one.


About betsybeadhead

Hello, and Welcome. My name is Betsy, and I like beads and prayers. Fortunately those two things are more related than I ever realized. You are invited to “like” my Facebook page titled “Betsy Beadhead” and thus see what I’m talking about in my posts when I try to explain something using beads rather than words. This whole thing started because of that. Then I couldn't figure out how to post pictures so I just started writing. I string together words the same way I string together beads, and both serve the same purpose. I work at a library, surrounded by ideas brushing up against each other. I draw, paint, and collage. I study world religions. In all these experiences I like combining different things and making new things, and stretching my understanding of what “is” and what “has to be.” You are welcome to share my posts - just please give credit where credit is due. I'm anti-censorship but I'm also anti-plagiarism.
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