Mommy Dearest
There's a girl at work who's a long story I don't feel like telling right now, so I'll try to give you the Reader's Digest condensed version.
Her mom has drifted in and out of my life since we were in second grade together. I first met this young lady when she was a newborn baby, then again when she was about three and had a new little brother. She was precious and starved for affection and approval. I didn't see her again until she was 15 or 16, then again when I attended her baby shower when she was 17. She's 21 now, a single mom with a 4 year-old daughter. In a turn of events that could only have been engineered by God, she helped get me the job at Walgreens and we work together in the cosmetics department - in fact, as the Senior Beauty Adviser, she's kind of my boss.
Ironic doesn't quite cover this one.
She is a big woman, about 5'9, and weighs about 310. She would be above-average pretty if she'd ever get the scowl off her face, and has beautiful, thick chestnut brown hair she keeps tied up in a messy knot on her head. She is bitter and angry and lives for drama, which she keeps stirred up constantly by eavesdropping and gossiping. She bustles around in a pretense of busyness and surrounds herself with a shield of bad attitude. In the one honest moment we've had together, I asked her if she missed her friends from Dallas (after living in Dallas for about 11 years, she and her mom moved back last spring). She looked at me with big brown sad eyes and said, "I don't have any friends. And I don't know why."
She honestly doesn't get it.
The point to all this is that she blames her misery on her mother. Every woman, sooner or later, comes to the day where she thinks everything that is bad in her life is because her mom screwed up raising her. It occurs during that time in life when we've lived long enough to be sure that we know everything, but not long enough to see that we don't know anything and most of what we do know is wrong.
The kick in the pants is the day we see the mistakes we've made as moms, and realize nobody's perfect. We're all just doing the best we can. We may not screw up the way our moms did, but we make a whole new mess of things. And when our kids grow up, they may not make the same mistakes we did, but they'll screw up, too.
At some point, we'll all get to the day where we don't blame anybody anymore. And hope when the blame comes our way, the grace we give to our moms comes back to rest on us.
Her mom has drifted in and out of my life since we were in second grade together. I first met this young lady when she was a newborn baby, then again when she was about three and had a new little brother. She was precious and starved for affection and approval. I didn't see her again until she was 15 or 16, then again when I attended her baby shower when she was 17. She's 21 now, a single mom with a 4 year-old daughter. In a turn of events that could only have been engineered by God, she helped get me the job at Walgreens and we work together in the cosmetics department - in fact, as the Senior Beauty Adviser, she's kind of my boss.
Ironic doesn't quite cover this one.
She is a big woman, about 5'9, and weighs about 310. She would be above-average pretty if she'd ever get the scowl off her face, and has beautiful, thick chestnut brown hair she keeps tied up in a messy knot on her head. She is bitter and angry and lives for drama, which she keeps stirred up constantly by eavesdropping and gossiping. She bustles around in a pretense of busyness and surrounds herself with a shield of bad attitude. In the one honest moment we've had together, I asked her if she missed her friends from Dallas (after living in Dallas for about 11 years, she and her mom moved back last spring). She looked at me with big brown sad eyes and said, "I don't have any friends. And I don't know why."
She honestly doesn't get it.
The point to all this is that she blames her misery on her mother. Every woman, sooner or later, comes to the day where she thinks everything that is bad in her life is because her mom screwed up raising her. It occurs during that time in life when we've lived long enough to be sure that we know everything, but not long enough to see that we don't know anything and most of what we do know is wrong.
The kick in the pants is the day we see the mistakes we've made as moms, and realize nobody's perfect. We're all just doing the best we can. We may not screw up the way our moms did, but we make a whole new mess of things. And when our kids grow up, they may not make the same mistakes we did, but they'll screw up, too.
At some point, we'll all get to the day where we don't blame anybody anymore. And hope when the blame comes our way, the grace we give to our moms comes back to rest on us.
posted by Cas at 10:29 AM
2 Comments:
Maybe she'll see the error of her ways when her daughter turns out to be just like her. I think the blame is multi-fold - the parents for not doing their best (doesn't really sound like her mother put forth her best effort in raising the kids), the kids for not being responsible any more and the governmental system that wants to take all of our parental rights away. If they would leave us to raising the kids the way they should be (back when spankings and whuppings weren't considered "child abuse" and other things that they feel they have the right to take away), our kids would be better off. I know I'm not the best mother in the world but I do what I can. And of course in my day as a child, we never would have had the cajones to speak to our parents the way kids speak to theirs today. So, yes some of the blame is on her mother but a good bit has to fall on her since she obviously has not taken any responsibility for her actions (thereby no friends) and her disposition.
We are from a different era that's for sure. Such is life - see you in the postings - E :)
she is a carbon copy of her mom.
Post a Comment
<< Home