My mother is a frail woman. She has endured a lifetime of hurt & pain, her story ironically is almost identical to mine. Some of that pain was from her own poor decisions, some were things that happened to her that was our of her control. Either way, it has shaped her into the humbly weak person she is today. I do not say that out of disrespect, because no matter what, I do love her. I miss the mother that I had imagined was my hero when I was a kid. The neglect that I see now as an adult, wasn't neglect at all to me as a child. It was bad luck and watching her just get up everyday if it was just to sit in front of the tv zoned out or take a nap or two, was courage to me. She wasn't vindictive, angry, she didn't yell or get mad much and that to us meant she was an awesome all around mom. I can remember just one time as a kid, prior to turning into Satan's spawn as a teen, that she actually ever got really mad and that was when she opened the door to the basement just in time to see me let my 2 year old brother tumble down the entire stair well in a cardboard box. Hey, we thought we were sledding and to us it was fun, even the bruises and bumps along the way!
In my 30 years, I've learned that mothers come in all forms, sizes, and women. Not just the one who gave birth to me.
The day I was put into the children's home I wasn't truly given a notice. It was less than a week before my sweet 16 birthday (What a grand present, eh?) A big suit case had been packed for me. My mother put it in the back of the van before I ever saw it and then greeted me with half tears in her soft eyes. For the last 3 weeks after getting out of the hospital, instead of going back to school, I was getting up every morning and riding with her over to a dress shop owned by one of her friends, an older woman whose son my mother use to date. The store was in a historical home across from the old East Macon Methodist Church. It wasn't in the best neighborhood, a decline throughout the decades I'm sure. I would spend my days trying on dresses, helping prepare lunch, sitting on the big wrap around porch smoking cigarettes (Yes! Smoking freely at 15 years old!) and just watching the neighborhood action. Drug deals going down, little old ladies selling things, cops patrolling, highway traffic on the Coliseum Drive, whatever kept me entertained. I think my mother was just there for moral support. She couldn't of been on a salary. The dress shop at most got MAYBE 2 people a day coming into it & none of them ever walked out with a dress. My mother & Ms. Marion would sit in the kitchen, drinking coffee, smoking, and talking about everything under the sun. Soap operas could be heard from another room that just had a tv in it and that was it. No chair, nothing. When I got bored enough, I would sit on the floor and watch Guiding Light. She had a display of beanie babies in a glass case, more than you could count (I tried), hair accessories galore and all the dresses you could imagine! I think I tried on every one I could out of pure boredom. Marion's three grandchildren lost their mother, her daughter, at a very young age. I'm not sure where their father was but I know Marion couldn't raise them, neither could any of her other siblings. They all three, both very sweet kids, lived in the Masonic Home. I heard them talking about it & on some weekends I would have the pleasure of hanging out with them when they were allowed a weekend visist with their grandma. Never in a million years did I think that I would be living with them in just a short amount of time. That morning we headed out the usual routine, my mother NEVER drove on the interstate but took every back road in Macon. It's because of that, I can maneuver around town fairly easy these days without getting lost. On this particular trip however, she didn't turn down Emory to head to Coliseum. She went straight. I thought perhaps we were going to NuWay to grab lunch because it was a little bit later in the day than normal. She went right past it and turned left onto Nottingham Drive. My eye brow raised and before I could question her, she spoke softly, "You know I love you right? I can't take care of you anymore, you are out of control and it's because of what has happened to you. I don't know what else to do. I know you're not a bad kid, so go in there and prove them wrong, prove them wrong, Christen! Show them how smart you are!" Before I could respond, the answer in a form of a big building and cottages came into view and the sign "Masonic Children's Home of Georgia" was in front of me. The air in my lungs escaped me. I didn't have time to react. "Just move", I kept telling myself. One foot in front of another, suit case in tow.
The Masonic Home is a gorgeous building, very old but brilliant with massive paintings, antique like furniture, and extremely quiet almost like a library. I sat on the expensive looking couch facing the front door as my mother went into the opposite direction & into an office with a secretary. The door closed and for half a second I considered running. It was then I heard a clicking noise coming from the hallway. I leaned back out of curiousity and saw a precious blue eyed, messy brown hair girl, peering back at me. She was sitting at an old school desk that faced another office whose door was also shut. She kept waving and giggling. I have loved children since I was a child, even! Immediately, the interaction grew and we formed an instant bond. Her name, Alana. The office door next to her snapped open & a petite woman walked out with a frown on her face. "What is all this noise Alana?" Alana shrugged her shoulders and that's when the lady's eyes met mine. "Well, it looks like you were not in this matter alone. This child is in trouble and this is her punishment. She is to be quiet. Please do not encourage her." She turned around and met another woman who exchanged a conversation of exactly Alana had done that day. She was suspended for punching a boy! After both ladies walked off, Alana whispered to me that she punched him because he tried to kiss her, she just didn't tell anyone that part. I asked her how old she was and she smiled all snaggly toothed & boasted, "5 and I'm in kindergarten!" What could a five year old possibly do to end up in a place like this, I thought?! It was that day that I adopted Alana as my own child and became her stand in mother. I learned quickly that she wasn't liked by many other kids because she was a bit on the annoying side. She was completely ADHD and I don't blame her for being restless. She had been abandoned, both her & her 7 year old super smart & sweet brother. He kept his nose in a book at all times. He was complete opposite of his outspoken little firecracker of a sister, he was very reserved & shy. There were nights when they couldn't calm Alana down to go to bed because she was either angry with outbursts or crying uncontrollably or both. Her house parent would call my house parent & I was sent out of my senior girls cottage to her younger girls apartment to calm her down. I'd pick her up, hug her, wipe the tears from her eyes, brush my fingers through her hair, tell her a bedtime story and get her tucked in for the night. I was her mother even at my own young teen age. She even called me Mama. Because of her ADHD, she really struggled with school and was even more rambunctious during mandatory study hall each night after supper. After a few months, I exempted out of mandatory study hall & only was required to do my homework in my room because I was making all A's ... which I knew I was very capable of, the lack of my grades in years prior was due to my instability, lazy, no push from adults, depression, etc. Once I was given structure, discipline, and stability, I soared just like my mother said the day she dropped me off. Which makes me question why she couldn't of done it for me at our home instead of shipping me off?? I can answer those questions now that I see the bigger picture as an adult myself, I had no clue when I was 16. The house parents saw how mature I was and how good I was with Alana, so the education director of the home, asked my houseparent if I could be her mentor & tutor. I didn't even blink an eye, that very day I was down in study hall teaching my little doll all the things she was struggling with. Within a couple of weeks, Alana's grades had improved and she wasn't nearly acting up as much as she use to. It just took a little patience & what some have called my gift with children to help her.
About a year later, Alana & Dustin got good news. Their mother was coming to sign them out & take them back home for good. While I was happy for her, I was also distraught. Worried that it wasn't for the best and because I knew how to help her soothe herself at night when she was in tears, I could calm her down long enough to study, I knew the tricks and all things Alana. She helped me cope more than I probably helped her because she gave me a purpose everyday. It was a Friday afternoon that we were alotted a visit with our parents for the weekend. Her mother was packing all of her belongings in their car. My mother pulled up and I gave Alana one last hug & kiss. I made her promise that she would be a good girl & to soar as high as she possibly could with success. Her mother gave me a cold glare, grabbed her hand and walked away. I got in my mother's car & as she pulled away, Alana started chasing the car, screaming & crying. I was a wreck. I still think about her to this day & wondered how she turned out. I wonder what kind of life she endured after that ... was it easy & filled with happiness? Or was she tossed around in a sea of trouble as she grew to be a woman. If my calculations are correct, she would be 20 now, on the verge of being 21. I've tried looking her & her brother up throughout the years and nothing has become of it. Maybe one day, we'll be reunited again. If not in this lifetime, perhaps our next.
While there are so many other stories to share in the Home, they will come in due time. I want to continue with the subject of motherhood.
When I was 17, my best friend's mother agreed that it would be best to sign me out of the home and to take me in theirs. See, she too was placed in an orphanage scenario as a child and could relate. My mother agreed finally after my pleading and signed over her rights. While she wasn't the easiest parent, she was by far the most involved. She made sure that we did our homework, chores, was at school & work everyday. She was strict ... super strict. Now that I'm a parent, I completely understand why! While we were rambuncious teenage girls without a care in the world, Ms. Renate also was those same girls in her prime, and had our best intentions at heart. I still thank her to this day for taking me in when my own family wouldn't. Did I mention that she, herself, had 4 children of her own, 1 grandchild at the time, hosted a forgein exchange student in her home for a year all while being a SINGLE PARENT?!?! AND opening her doors & her life to me! She is the definition of amazing and I learned alot while in her care.
Fast forward to present day. In 2000, I was introduced to the sweetest most loving woman I have ever met next to my great grandmother, Mama Wright. Her name is Angela Coleman and she is my mother in law. In a world of mother in law clichés, I by far got the best! I cannot say one single bad word about her. She has the kindest spirit and I don't think in 13 years I have ever heard her cuss, speak ill of anyone, or even complain. She is a CNA at a nursing home & works night shift and I'm telling you, if I ever had to be put in one when I'm old, I pray I have someone with her heart. She genuinely cares about her patients and doesn't neglect them. She has only called in about 2 times in the last 13 years that I know of & that's when her mother died and when she was with my father in law when was put in the hospital & diagnosed with lung cancer. Most importantly, she has been the best grandmother to my daughter than I could ever ask for. For what my own mother lacks in that department, Angel has made up for it & then some! She took me under her wing and has made me feel not just like an in law, but like her own daughter. She tells me all the time that she loves me like I was her own, and more than her words, her actions prove it. I am blessed beyond measure to have her in my life & will forever be grateful for her generousity, for her shoulder that I've literally cried on, for her non judgements, & for her unconditional love.
See, God saw that I desperately needed a mother in my life. It has been a huge void for me to fill. He didn't just give me one, He has blessed me with so many more. I was able to step into an innocent 5 year old's life and be her temporary mother & I also was given a temporary mother in return. I've been blessed with an outstanding mother in law, house parents who made me feel comfortable upon my arrival at the home, a coworker who I didn't have time to introduce but I lovingly called her 'Maw' (may she rest in peace) who taught me the tricks & trades of trucking, oh the adventures we shared!, and many other influential women whose genuine love has made me into the mother that I am today. The more & more I write, the more I want to share! My very own miracle baby being top on the list! That story is coming soon, I promise!
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