I was up at 4:30am this morning to make sure my dad and grandmother made it out the door to their flight this morning. I am sad to see them go. Yes, it might have been a bit crowded to have 4 adults in a 1 bedroom apartment, but I’m going to miss having them there. For the past two weeks, someone was home and to talk to. It was comforting. Not to mention that my grandmother helped me out so much. We would cook and clean together and I got to listen to her stories.
I can’t wait to see her again at Christmas. I know time will fly just as fast.
My beautiful grandmother is 93 today! She is an amazing pillar of strength and beauty. She has loved me as if I were her own child. She taught me how to love unconditionally. I saw her be strong and wanted to be strong like her. I still do. She know how to do so much. I wish I had half as much talent. I say a big HappyBirthday!to my beautiful grandmother. I hope I can make your day as special as you’ve made my life. I love you!
I love my grandmother to death. I really do. She can do no wrong in my eyes. But I’m starting to realize she has had a bigger impact on my life than I had originally thought. Of course she influenced my growing up. I’m not saying that. I guess, it’s more along the lines of the eating disorder.
In all my years of therapy and treatment, I never really could figure out why my eating disorder started. There was the naturally anxious child that I was and the trauma. And I was probably predisposed to have an eating disorder, but I think my grandmother had more to do with it that I ever cared to realize before. (I hate how therapy can encourage you to make connections where you never had before.)
My grandmother is going on about how she needs to lose weight. She’s always been a slender woman, but I can remember her saying that she weighed too much. She was always a healthy eater. I love fruits and veggies because of her. But I can see how it’s slightly disordered. She’s tiny right now, but still thinks she needs to lose weight. I don’t understand how she could think that because she’s basically bones now.
As a grandmother, she always asks if I’m eating okay. And I tell her yes, as to not make her worry. Both her and my dad have mentioned my weight. And how I was the biggest (translation: fattest) I’ve ever been at my wedding. My grandmother always asks if I’ve lost weight; that I need to be healthy. Then last night, she asked what I ate. I told her and she asked me why I wasn’t losing weight. How can I tell her that I’ve screwed up my body so much that I just can’t unless it’s drastic?
I want to make her happy. I would love to lose this excess weight, not only for me, but her.
I absolutely adore my grandmother. She is my rock. She saved me. She is one of the best people I know.
As a young girl, she taught me so much. Even with her 3rd grade education, she taught me basic mathematics. She taught me how to cook simple dishes. She taught me how to do laundry. And in the kitchen, were my first lessons in tango. It’s because of her that I know Spanish.
When I got older, she told me stories of her youth and childhood. She loved her father, like I love mine. She knew how to take care of herself and her siblings at a young age. I admire her so much.
I loved spending time with her. When I was a teenager, she would take different classes at the local community college. An English class, yoga class, a running/walking class, piano, and a weight lifting class. She was is a strong little woman. Just thinking of her makes me smile.
And I get to spend the next 3 weeks with her. She comes in with my dad tomorrow. There’s so much she needs to teach me within the next 3 weeks. Her special spaghetti and other foods and how to crochet. I’m sure there is more. Lots more. I want to take a ton of pictures of us. I just want to be with her.
My grandmother. She helped raise me and was there for me. She taught me basic math and how to nourish my body. She taught me how to love.
My adoptive mother. Even though we fight and don’t always get along, I know she’s doing the best she can with what she has. I know she loves me.
My birth mother. This woman made (what I see as) the ultimate sacrifice because she knew she couldn’t provide for me.
I know very little of my birth mother. I know her name, that I’m the youngest of 7 (at the time), and the circumstances in her home probably weren’t good. I have often wondered how a mother can make such a decision. It must take such strength to be that unselfish and I am so incredibly grateful. I may have had ups and downs (and who doesn’t?), but on the whole, I’ve had an amazing life with wonderful experiences. I am where/who I am today, partially because of her.
Not only did my parents want a child, but, honestly, I was probably brought into the picture to save my parents’ marriage. I’m okay with that. My mother was willing to have a child that was not of her flesh or blood and love and raise it as her own. There is something beautiful in that. She was/is so willing. And that’s beautiful. She taught me a family isn’t always about the bloodlines, and often times, it has nothing to do with it.
I truly feel that my grandmother is my saving grace. I know of unconditional love because of her. I know how to do things passionately because of her. I know how to speak Spanish and make a kick ass ceviche because of her. She is beautiful.
I give thanks for each of these women. And the women who came before them. I am stronger and wiser because of you.
To anyone who is a mother, or who has taken on the role, Happy Mother’s Day!
I don’t like Mother’s Day. I understand that I’m lucky. My mother is still alive. And in all honesty, she was probably the driving force behind getting me. However, that still doesn’t change the fact that she was never like a mother to me. I’ve said many a times that my mother wanted a baby, but not a daughter. She didn’t want me to have opinions, thought, or a personality of my own. I think her thought was very much: Children should be seen and not heard.
Over the years, I’ve come to the realization that she did and is doing the best she can with what she was given. My mom’s parents were/are awful. They were racist and hateful. Mainly to me and my dad. Just because we are Hispanic and I’m adopted. They weren’t nice. And they didn’t even try hide it.
It really influenced how my mom treated me when we were with them. It wasn’t nice either. And I tried to tell her how she and her parents were acting, but she didn’t believe me. I tried to tell her that I didn’t like going to visit them with her, but she never heard me. Still doesn’t. But I think everything I’ve said is finally starting to sink in when her mom didn’t want to come to my wedding. The only one on that side of the family. Yeah. That made me feel real special. A couple of years ago, I got a different haircut. I went to go pick up my mom at the airport and she didn’t recognize me. She still has to ask if I like certain foods or colors. She just never really understood me.
On the other hand, my grandmother is the light of my life. She’s my dad’s mom and treated me like her own. She loved and listened to me. She knows when I’m hurting. I love her so much. And as I’ve said for many years now, she is my mother. I love her so.
Which now brings me to Mother’s Day. I always have the hardest time finding the right card for my mom and grandmother. Well, finding the right card for my grandmother is easy. I just can’t send it to her. Otherwise my mom will get jealous. And the cards that just say “Happy Mother’s Day,” are few and far between. I can’t get the gift I really want to get for my grandmother either. Even though I’m an adult, it’s just so much easier to keep the peace.