What’s “Mother’s Day?”
I’ve never understood Mother’s day. I thought of it as Father’s day Part 1.
My first memory I have of a Mother is actually really sad. I was in Kindergarten, and it was Mother’s day.
She made it out into a huge deal, saying that we need to show our love to our Mother’s. She made this elaborate bag designing plan and everyone was making cards. After about half an hour I put up my hand with only one question that I hoped she would answer. “What’s a Mother?” The look on her face… I remember it. She looked absolutely guilty, like this isn’t her job to tell her student that my mom died. She explained after class that Mother’s day is for the mommy that gave us lives. That I should be happy that someone helped me be here. I couldn’t understand and I couldn’t stop crying. I never got proper closure after that, so for the next 10 years I had massive severe depression. I was a little 6 year old, crying every day and late at night because I didn’t have what everyone else had. Every day I cried, then I would go home with a smile to try to make my dad happy because he was having panic attacks and there was fights and…. Well, it’s all too much.
I really wish that I could have met her. I mean, I have this reoccurring dream but it fades as time passes. It’s of my mom changing my diaper, humming. I remember dreaming this from when I was reaaally little. But now whenever it’s there, I just see a black blob with curly hair and a distorted voice.
My mother passed when I was one, and I always thought that this was a terrible thing. I’ve heard countless times that a child without their mother was never a child at all. But recently I tried to put myself in my brother’s perspective. He was Eight years old when my Mom died. He was old enough to remember her, and he remembered her enough to know that things will never be the same.
I wish I could say, “Wow, that must’ve been hard for him.” I never could. I mean, yeah. It would have been hard. But I would be saying it because I’ve heard it a thousand times. “Wow, that must be so hard for you! I wouldn’t know what to do if MY mom died!”
I don’t know what the emotional connection that people have with the woman that gave them life. It’s a lost cause for me.
I read about all of these stories about how their mother loved them, about how they’re always there.
Then I hear all of these rants about how “[they’re] mom is such a bitch!” and it upsets me. I also hear countless rants about how structured their parents are, that they keep an eye on them and how they watch out for their safety. They try so hard to make what they have absolutely horrible. I understand that it’s all situational. What they experience and react would be different from how I would react.
I have never had structure. I have never had a Mother. As far as I know, I’ve never had a real father. My dad is a drunk who is only there half the time. The entire time, I feel absolutely miserable and uncomfortable being around him as he flirts with young girls and makes stupid comments about everything. But, I love my dad. He’s funny (on occasion) and he tries (though rarely) and he will always love me. But it’s not the same, right?
I couldn’t compare the love people have with their Mother to my love with my father. I believe it would be more closely linked to the love I have for my Brother. He took such good care of me, and he still does! He is my Father and my Mother, and we both wish that he never had to be.
Could someone help sum up the definition of a mother and how it makes you feel when you’re with your mom?
Is it nice? Does she love you unconditionally? Does she hold you when you’re sad? Did she ever tuck you into bed?
I just wish I had the chance to know.
Waking up sucks
Today I was having a lovely dream of flying around the universe, completely unaware of the lack of oxygen around me. My lungs were hurting but I held my breath and flew to a nearby planet to find that it was inhabitted by small little creatures called “Kamegi”. I was almost made their queen but suddenly I was woken up.
Me: (answers phone) “hello?”
Random guy: “Hello. Do you want to be my friend?”
Me: “aren’t you the guy that was going to rent a room out for me?”
Random guy: “Yes. Do you want to be my friend?”
Me: “………no. This is weird. Why are you calling me?”
Random guy: “We can go get a coffee some time. You can be my friend.”
Me: “I don’t want to be my friend. And thanks a lot for waking me.”
Random guy: “Be my friend.”
Me: (turns to roommate) “PINCH ME. IM DREAMING RIGHT?”
Random guy: “I think you’re cute.”
Me: “……… we only met on the phone. I never came to see the place.”
Random guy: “Okay. I go find other friend.”
What
- My phone won't let me back out of updating my tumblr. I can't go back until i press send.
- I hate this phone.
We found this caterpillar. We took him inside and rested him on the table. Us, not having anything to do due to this incredible heat, were mesmerized by this. One of us put music on and we watched in wonder. The thing stood on its back legs and began to bob its head to the music. It was the best caterpillar ever.
What people don’t realize is that Strange Brew is actually a very well shot documentary about Canadian life
(Source: badcgijosh)
