I DON'T HAVE A MOM, I SHOUTED

 

Being a foster child, I started my first few years moving from one family after another, and after a while, I had no idea if any of those families I stayed with were my parents.   During that time, I learned not to attach myself to anyone or any place, especially knowing my time with them would be short, perhaps a month or a week.

Because I was slow in understanding how things work or the relationships between an adult and a child, I didn't understand the word "MOM." Nor did I know what one was.   I had assumed it was a title you call the female grownups that look after you. So, it wasn't unusual that I would refer to my teachers as "mom" in elementary school.

By the time I was officially adopted in 1975, I was nine years old, and the only parent I had was a father. Initially, when I first arrived at the house at the age of five, there were two parents, but unfortunately, six months later, they divorced. So, having a mother lasted only six months, and I hardly saw her during that time.  

A few years later, during recess at school, when the topic came up regarding "mothers," I somberly announced, "I don't have a mom."  "Everyone has a mom!" one of the kids retorted back.    Feeling the need to correct him, I spoke up and said, "well, I don't!" Getting in on the conversation, another kid then asked, "then who gave birth to you?" Feeling that he had resolved the issue, he crossed his arms in victory.   Angerly, I stared at him, then said, "A lady gives birth. A mom is someone who loves and hugs you; I DON'T HAVE A MOM!" I then stormed off.

Of course, I knew I did, as I imagined her watching over me while growing up and assumed she had perhaps died while giving birth. But in school during Mother's Day, I thought otherwise. It saddened me to see all the other kids with their moms, showing off their work, and talking about what they did while I was sitting at my desk, eagerly wanting to show someone my projects.   Not even my father cared to attend those events, so I felt alone.

One day, desperate to have a mother, I even brought my toothbrush to school with the idea of going home with one of the mothers who was picking up their child. But instead, they brought me back to the receptionist, where I had to wait for my governess to pick me up. She would then drive me back home to a motherless family with a father who was hardly around.  

Because I never had a mother, I never had a girlfriend, at least not until I met the current lady I am with. Although we met when I was 21, I’m happy to say we are still together 35 years later. Also, I learned that my mother is alive, and I had met her, but I had difficulty calling her MOM. I eventually reconnected with the lady who I had only known for six months, and oddly, she considered herself my mother, and because she was the closest I had ever had to having one, I guess I did too, especially during Mother’s Day when I sent her a card. Unfortunately, she has since passed away, and there is not a day that I don't think about her. 

It's odd, but in the 14 years I lived with my father, I grew closer to the lady I had only known for six months and became happy to call her "Mom."