HOW DO MOMS DO IT? - Brittlestar’s Weekly Newsletter - Issue #16
I didn’t buy any Dogecoin. Should I have? I did buy a lottery ticket. Same diff. Maybe I should check that. Oh… happy Sunday! Grab a coffee and let’s go.
HOW DO MOMS DO IT?
My Mom would love sitting out at night.
Perhaps she still does. I should’ve asked her before I wrote this.
Growing up, I would often sit with my Mom on our front porch late at night (full disclosure: I don’t know how late it was. I was little. Anywhere between 9 PM and 5AM say). Our house was on a fairly busy street, so there was always something to look at.
Revellers stumbling home.
The store beside us. The store across from us. The other store across from us. There were a lot of stores. Three at one point.
We’d be somewhat hidden in the shadows behind two massive evergreen trees but it still felt dangerous to me… In the dark. Vision slightly obscured. Voices. Strange sounds… and I’d get scared until I’d look at my Mom.
She’d be just calm. Embracing the environment. Consuming the night sky.
That would calm me down and make me a little envious.
My parents emigrated to Canada in their early twenties… in the 70s. Our house could be a raucous and chaotic sea of laughter, singing and fleeting arguments.
I could tell that some nights may have went a bit too far towards chaos, but the ship always righted itself in the morning.
My sister and I would still get fed. Still have clean clothes.
Still feel loved.
Still feel supported.
My Mom was about 21 when she moved to Canada. A child. In fact, the same age as one of my children right now.
At 22 she became a Mom.
A 22 year old Mom in a new country and she did it.
Not perfect. That would be weird.
But she did it. With grace and tenacity. Wonderful.
From chaos to calm. She’d cry, laugh and try to keep something from every single moment.
And she still does.
She’s not dead. This makes it sound like she’s dead. She’s not. Honest.
I’m not sure what magical thing happens when someone goes from ‘person’ to ‘Mom’ but I’m sure glad it does.
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My Mom loves me so much, she let me wear all of this