Thoughts and Ramblings – Memories (Part 1)

A few days ago as a ‘Daily Prompt’ I wrote what could maybe have been information on the ‘dust cover’ of a book, indicating what my book was about. The title of my post was ‘Book Unwritten’ because  I have not written nor do I have enough information or details  to write such a book. But at one time I thought ‘maybe’?? The book would have been about my mother.

In any case I was looking up some of my thoughts that I had written years ago, and found this, so I thought I’d share it.

“Maybe some day I’ll write a book. But what could I write about….. and then one day as I was thinking and meditating on things, related to my mother’s failing health, I knew what the subject would be. I even had a title in mind….it would be called ‘The Age of Grace’.”

There is a bond normally between most mothers and their children I believe. But based on the respective personalities of the child or mother, the bond varies in intensity even between children within the same family.  Maybe it also depends on the place you fit into the family with relation to firstborn, second and so on. In my case I was the last of ten children, born into what basically was a single-parent family. My bond was very strong.

Oh yes, my father had definitely been around, otherwise there wouldn’t have been ten of us! But basically ‘Pop’ as he was known, should never have married or had any children because he wasn’t able to take any responsibility for raising a family. I never met him until I was 11 or 12 years of age.  Really, even up until that point it was my understanding that he had died. No one ever told me that, but I guess I just assumed if you didn’t have a ‘daddy’, he must have died. And since there were a lot of movies in the early days of my childhood, related to World War 2, I seemed to have just assumed, he must have died in the war. ‘Maybe’ when I was very young I asked about my ‘daddy’…I don’t remember, and my mother didn’t talk about him, so I guess I just silently concluded he must have died in the war. I never ‘verbalized’ this however to my Mom or anyone. If I had done so she would have told me I feel certain…at least partial truth so that no deep misconceptions formed in my mind…as they did.

Actually, as I’d learn much later in my life ‘Pop’ was an alcoholic and gambler and was not true to my mother either. Because I never knew these facts in my early childhood years, I never developed any deep hurt or even ‘hate’ for him. I was not taught to hate in any case. But I do know that I did miss not having a daddy to spoil me or hold me on his knee and cuddle me …as my friends had.

But of course there was my ‘Mommy’ to love me and hold me and let me know how much SHE loved me. And when I was sick, and that was often because of asthma and croup, there were those many special moments, and even hours that she would hold me on her knees and just let me know by her love, that everything was going to be alright. I just had her strong and loving assurance that she was taking care of me and I felt so safe in her arms.” There was one time vivid in my memory when she held me all night while she sat up in a chair, because I had asthma very bad and could not lie down to sleep.

NOTE: I don’t like to cut this off but I  can see this particular writing is too long for one post so I’ll continue it with the next one.

19 thoughts on “Thoughts and Ramblings – Memories (Part 1)

  1. Your story is helping me to open up …my father was also an alcoholic something I have finally came to admit to myself. When he was sober he was there for me. When he was drunk he did not abuse me, he neglected me. For years I hid from the truth and pretended I had the normal family. In a strange sort of way I always knew I was loved though and that may have well been also because of my mother. I knew the reasons dad drank and through the years I have come to forgive him and pray that he now finally has some peace. Hugs… Patty

    Like

    • I am so glad if it helps you in any way…When I was growing up we just didn’t talk about the ‘elephant’ in the room ..so to speak…and of course I didn’t talk to any of my friends about my absent father…It was just as though he didn’t exist….but he did and I forgave him in my heart a long time ago for not being there for me..and I know my mother still loved him…When we found out he died she was in a nursing home by that time and though she could not speak…when we told her he had died tears were very evident in her eyes…Diane

      Like

      • That is probably why I ran from the truth, it was easier that way. But we all have to face it at one time or another. And yes, I love my dad, I will always love him. You just can’t erase them from your heart can you? I understand how your mom must have felt. Thanks Diane for being part of my healing process.

        Like

  2. I have a friend, one that is very close. His father just died and, in my youth, his father was an asshole, a drunk, a hell-raiser and so many other things. But he was around. For better or worse (mostly worse) he was around. Even a bad father can teach a child something. An absent one does nothing.

    I know that’s easy for me to say. My dad was not only around, but a good father as well. That’s just my take.

    I can’t wait to hear the rest.

    Tim

    Like

    • I can only speak from the point of view of a totally absent father…and you’re right he can do nothing nor impart anything to his child…From my siblings point of view from what I’ve been told he just didn’t have it in him to be what a father should be…and they never knew one day to the next what to expect from him…Having said that I never heard any one of them say that they ‘hated’ him…and some had contact with him as they grew older..Thanks for your comment….Diane

      Like

I'd Love it If You Left a Comment but Thanks for Dropping By in any Case

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s