The me in mother

I have always loved children.  For years I believed I was sterile, but one day a visit to the doctor for terrible cramping while beginning an off schedule period proved to be a warning for a miscarriage.  I was unbelievably happy and though always being a very active person and taxing my body to the limits I very willingly slowed the pace and delivered my first son Roger in September of  1966,  Raymond followed in November of 1967, a centennial baby.  I had my first two children and the plan was to raise them to school age then deliver two more.  Life doesn't always go as planned and Ninette was born in October of 1968.  By then I was exhausted and needed some help which the traveling nurses (VON) were very willing to give. They would come once a month and take over baby sitting while I got a couple of hours of  uninterrupted sleep.  

I was very strict with my children.    Denis was always on the road and I took my mother position seriously.  I refused to threaten my children with words like "just wait until your father gets home"  They saw their father so seldom I didn't think it fair at all  to make them scared to see him return home.  I was raising them, if there were ever punishments handed out it was I who called it.  While Denis was home they enjoyed their father and always got away with murder.  I thought that was good though,  I loved to see them climb all over Denis  when he came home.  

 Denis and I are free now to do our own thing.   It is time,  they are all in their thirties now and certainly do not need parenting. 

On a quiet New Year's Eve 2000 seeing the new year in with my husband and watching the celebrations on television as we had grown accustomed to over the years. I realized suddenly that I had four very good friends who lost their husbands in the last ten years. 

Every one of them were ready to start living and enjoying life and all it has to offer in one short year's time. Others lost their children to death and still there is a life to live.   When I realized that,  a great peace settled over me. If these women found the strength to go on,  what must they think of me?  Their whole life has changed!   Surely I must be wallowing in my own self pity and torturing myself with dreams and hopes of the impossible. 

We will never become a family again in the true sense of the word.   It can never be, too much time has passed  too much respect has been lost.  There will never be trust and without trust there is no relationship. Given this realization I have finally laid it to rest   I will not look back, for that would be a waste of the precious time we have left on this earth.  

My family it is today,  smaller around the dinner table but finally at peace with ourselves.


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