I’ve made many. When I was young, I hurt my parents in many ways. I pushed the boundaries set for my protection. I did not understand them and worse yet, I didn’t care to. I said things that were hurtful, I broke the rules, I lashed out in anger. I now understand it was a part of life, a part of being a teenager filled with anger, hope, despair, joy and uncertainty. It was a lethal combination and my poor parents were the targets of so many of the darts released. When I think back, I regret so much of the pain I inflicted on them.
As a mother I made so many mistakes. I was scared, would I fail? Would I be capable of providing my children with a loving home and a beautiful childhood? Would they feel less growing up without their father? There was so much uncertainty and I was learning as I went along. I was determined to succeed to the best mom I could be. Being a mother is genuinely the greatest gift I have received.
Being a single mother was never easy. There were so many hats to wear, endless roles to fill. I was naïve and thought that if I worked hard enough, I would successfully fulfill each one. I reasoned I was strong enough, brave enough, loving enough. What I didn’t understand was that I was set to fall short from the beginning. No matter how hard I tried, how much I did, I could never complete each role sufficiently because not all the roles I was trying to play were meant for me. The result? I was very good at some but at others, try as I might, I fell short.
It all felt as if I had plenty of time available to learn and get it right, the reality is there was not enough time. Life goes by fast and when raising children, watching them grow, trying to teach them and guide them and being busy with all that entails, especially when doing it alone it goes by even faster. I wish I would have had more time, that I could go back and do some things over. Though I am proud of so many of the things I did, I am also disappointed by some of my actions.
I think of my childhood, the mistakes my parents made. I think of what they could have done better, what they should have noticed but missed. Now, here today as a 43 year old woman who raised a family herself I see them for what they are. Two flawed people who overcame so much adversity and carried the open wounds that came with that. I’ve let the anger and disappointment go and accept them as they are. They made mistakes, they were not perfect but they did their very best within their limitations both physical and emotional.
I pray that one day the children I was given as gifts will someday grant me the same. I hope they see I am nothing but an imperfect woman, who loved hard, who worked hard and tried her very best, even though sometimes her best was just not good enough.
– April 02, 2022 at about 38,000 feet in the air on a flight from LA to Dublin.