died when I was young. My aunt that raised me is my mother figure. My aunt is an amazing, intelligent, loving and honest person. Though I often wonder what kind of mother my late mother would have been I can't dwell on the thought. I have been blessed with my aunt and Mother's Day for me is her day.

Your mama sounds awesome. And she clearly did a great job raising a smart, innovative kiddle such as you!

she reads my blogs. this kind of makes me want to die.

My mother was born in El Membrillo, Mexico. She was the third oldest of eight children, and growing up, she wasn't as much an older sister as another mother to her younger siblings. The form of thanks she got from her parents came in the form of physical abuse with anything from belts to still-green tree branches. Even on the day my mom defiantly told my grandmother she was going to marry a American Jew, not a Mexican Catholic, my grandmother gave my 26 year old mother one last, feeble beating. Rather than repeat the abusive pattern with her kids, my mother vowed never to even spank with her hands. And I vow to love her always for that.

She told me she had wanted to be a lawyer, but when her man left (before she met my dad) and my half brother came, she went to work to support herself and her son. I felt bad when she told me about this and asked her if she regretted having us, and she said no.

My mom would always tell me that after having two sons, she prayed to have a daughter. She said I was the only one she ever planned on having. She always adds that just after she had me, one jealous friend said to her, "some people have all the luck in the world!"

Though my mother did a great job raising me, I had always thought that my mother never actually taught me anything; she didn't teach me Spanish (I finally took it in 7th grade); she didn't teach me how to sew, even though she's an incredible seamstress (finally learned in my fiber arts college courses); she never taught me how to cook, even though she's a great cook (I'm learning now).

Then it occurred to me her stories were her lessons. I realized why she wanted a daughter so badly (other than someone to make frilly dresses for); she needed someone who could withstand what all she had to say. My mom had as many stories to tell about her childhood and life in Mexico as the number of relatives we have (Mexican Catholicism = large extended family). My mom would tell me the story of how her sister got married at age 12; how her great aunt had given birth to a total of 22 children. My mother's story stood out singularly among the tales of sisters and aunts and cousins marrying before 18; unburdened by a husband, my mother was the only one of her siblings to stay in school and go to college.

My mother's stories seemed to take three dimensional form when she showed me how to make tortillas by hand. A lump of corn meal turned into yet another story as she flattened it into being with a metal press (my grandmother could just clap that lump between her hands and make it into a flat tortilla). She said that if a husband does not like his wife's tortillas, he could "throw a tortilla in her face". After that, I've always looked at a handmade tortilla like it was the face of an individual.

I realized that her stories and her showing me how to make tortillas was all so powerful to me that she and my aunts, other powerful mothers, became the source for my BFA (Bachelor of Fine Arts) show, which I titled "The Mexican Housewife." I wove and sewed and crocheted and performed in her and my aunts' honor.

My mother was both a source of inspiration and frustration to me, especially at this major artistic moment. I told my mother I was bisexual over a year ago, a week before my BFA show. My liking women is a vile thing to my mom, something that does not fit with the vision of the daughter she had prayed for. I felt so afraid I would lose her forever. I couldn't bear the possibility that she would never share another Mexico story with me again. I almost wanted to take it back; I couldn't bear how much pain I had just caused her. I felt like, my mother had endured such a hard life, had worked so hard, and raised me and given me so much, and this is how I repaid her, by being the one thing she feared most?

She has taught me so much, I can only hope that one day I might be able to teach her one important thing one day (or at least teach her more tolerance). Or if not, then I love her all the same, and she still loves me too.

First, thank you , Grace for inviting us to share...
Secondly, Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers, or folks who have loved someone and "mothered" them when they needed a mom.
No amount of words can convey how amazing my mother was, but I feel obliged to try.
My mother had an incredibly deep and abiding faith in Christ. She loved and lived for her children. She believed that "to whom much is given, much is required," and reflected that throughout her life. She was incredibly aware, thankful and humbled by the blessings in her life;was always mindful and sensitive of others needs. She possessed an unlimited capacity for compassion, as well as forgiveness.
She enabled me to know what it is to be unconditionally loved by another human being.
She was able to be disappointed for me, without ever making me feel she was disappointed in me.
When she died, I was heavy-hearted, full of regret for things I had said or done, as well as those things I had left unsaid and undone - and then,I was fortunate enough to find the amazing gift in all that - and now, thanks to yet another life lesson from my mother, I realized I don't have to always make my point - I don't always have to prove I'm right, and when I see and listen to others, i try to let them know I am truly seeing them and I am hearing them; and I try to make sure the folks in my life know that they matter to me - Did I tell you she was amazing? My mother died 3 years ago, and I miss her- and I am incredibly thankful for having had her in my life - and I am a little sad for all the folks who never had or will have the pleasure of meeting her.
Peace.

Hey Mum!
Well, I know you don't speak english, but don't you told me that you were victorian in your former life?
Everyday I feel something, everyday I see something, everyday I met people, everyday I laugh, everyday I dream...
Isn't it beautiful?
Mom I love you more than anyone, you are always close to me, sharing your feelings, crazy ideas or dreams like killing a giraffe on the balcony, making your plants applause when you give them some water...
I know why I'm mad now... you gave me this present!
THANK UUUUUUUUUU!!!
I love you Mom!

You inspire me in so many ways that it's bringing tears to my eyes right now.You survived many years of abuse from my father.That day that you and I left was the hardest thing we had to do ,but we did it together.You showed me that it's never o.k to be abused .Also it showed me that you can always start life brand new as long as you have breath in your body.Thanks for standing up for yourself and me.Now that I'm an adult I love listening to you talk shit to my dad because he messed it up with an amazing woman and he knows it.Thanks for having me ,and raising me.Thanks for excepting me and all my hangups .I'll always love my momma.

Hey Mommy,

I hope that you can hear me. I love you so much, I can't even express it. You stood by me through all of my difficult times and fabulous times. You never felt that my being a lesbian was a "bad" thing. You just wanted someone to love me.

You and Daddy always showed me that it is "love" and only "love" that counts. You and Daddy always made me smile when you made-out at the drive-in theatre. I still smile ,thinking about that !!

Thank you for everything you taught me, for every hug you ever gave me, and thank you for loving my very first girlfriend, almost as much as I did. Some day, we'll have to talk about that, Mommy.

When I see you again, please hold me tight and never let me go. Until then, hold and love Daddy and tell the angels when I get there............ I want the cute one to escort me to my fluffy cloud................ Now, Mommy you know I'm just kidding.

I love you. I miss you. I will see you again, and I know the Rapture will be stunning.

Bye, for now, Mommy.

P.S. Kiss Daddy for me.

My mom is and always has been extremely connected with me. I felt horrible that I didn't tell her about my sexuality, but for some reason I thought she couldn't understand.
She asked me only a few weeks ago if I was gay. It was an open, direct question, so I answered her in the same manner. I am truly blessed to have sucha loving and caring mother.
She is my rock, she is my teacher, she is above all my friend. I was wrong to think that she would have reacted unreasonably.
Mom, I love you! Happy Mother's Day and thank you for loving me the way I am!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZ_X4DeEcKk

is my greatest influence and the one who taught me to dream big and never give up. the one who forced me to be outspoken and to be an individual. to be me. thank you mom for making me, me.

but I'm a much cooler non-fundie mom.. and my son would agree.. since he can't be here to support this i will speak in his stead. he can update this blog after boot camp. kudos to moms... without mine i wouldn't be here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i loved her nuts... my hero flattened in disgrace.. squirrely.

http://www.ourchart.com/node/400573

my mother died, and let me tell you, it hurts.

Grace, your blog about this subject really had a profound effect on me after reading it and all of the comments from other ourchart family members.

My parents were born and raised in a religious sect called, "The Exclusive Plymouth Breathern" and pretty much had an arranged marriage, so it will be of little surprise to learn they are now divorced!:-) In this sect still to this day women are treated as second class to men, expecteed to be baby production lines, cooks and cleaners and their opinion counts for much less than that of the men etc. They only have contact with the "outside world" as they would say, for business purposes, slightly hypocritical you might think!

I am lucky in the sense due to my mother's brave decision, (I did not fully appreciate what a brave decision it was for her, up unitl recent years), to leave this religion when I was only four years old. The sacrafice was that myself and three brothers were excommunicated from our other family members, indeed I am now thirty-one and have never met any of my fathers family and I have only met my mother's parents on a few occasions over the years. We were on our own in the "outside world"!!

Due to my mother's own upbringing I was treated very different by my parents than my three brothers were, I was so resentful towards my them because of this but my mother especially, as I have never really bonded with my father and it was her love and attention I yearned for more than anything when I was growing up, my mother never said to me me those simple three words,"I love you", so I never thought she did! I still have not heard those words from her but I think I understand much more why not now. When you are young you do not have the mental capacity or maturity to stop and think about our own parents upbrinings and lifes and the impact this has on their own parenting skills!

I was fifteen years old when my mother left one day and never came back, she had left my father and her children to start a new life. At this point in my life I lost all respect for her and this was the case up until very recent times. At age eighteen my father left and moved to another country and re-married, my brothers had their own lifes but we have always had a very strong bond, that continues to grow stronger with age.

It was now up to me to make a life for myself and prove to my mother I didn't need her to succeed in life, it was my mission to never be like her. At age twenty-one I had worked hard enough to buy my own little house, had two jobs I loved to do. I worked with disabled adults and thrived on being able to care for others and shower the less fortunate people than me, with all the love and genuine affection and protection that I had never experienced as a child growing up. Working with disabled people was a hugely humbling experience and left me in awe and admiration for all of the individuals I have been blessed to work with over the years. They gave me the confidence to be true to myself and my sexuality, it gave me the confidence to come out because I witnessed them rise above adversity and not being accepted from society in general because they looked and acted differently.

I actually took some pleasure in telling my parents I was a lesbian because their acceptance I thought it didn't matter, I don't owe them anything, I don't care if they accept my sexuality!! (Of course now I know it did matter)! I had to laugh at my father's reaction to me coming out, he said, "I think your mother might be the same way inclined as she never used to let me near her"! My mother's reaction was, "Who could blame you living with a father like your's"! :-)))

My friends became my family and I have many adoptive mum's" as I would say, the more mature women that were my workmates often took me under their maternal wing, friends mum's always making me feel acepted as part of their family, I will be eternally grateful for this!!

Now to the ironic part and my main reason for writing this post. Nearly three years ago I became unwell and have now been diagnosed with two seperate neurological disorders and I am disabled myself as a result. I have had to give up the work I loved so much and have become the one needing cared for, although now I am happy to say, I have nearly regained full independence but will have certain limitations for the rest of my life.

This experience has lead me to re-evaluate my whole life, especially my relationship with my mother! I am no longer bitter towards her for being a non maternal person, some people are just like this, it doesn't mean she doesn't love me, she just can't express it verbally. I am now of the belief that her own mother's lack of maternal love, resulted in her being this way also.

I understand the difficulties she has faced in her own life. I now THANK my mother because had I not had to be so independant at such a young age, I would not have learnt to SURVIVE because of this! My determination not to be emotionally closed like her personality, lead me into a job that gave me so much satisfaction, enabeling me to express myself in a genuine tactul manner, (my own personality) and the experience has also helped me accept my own negative times in my life.

My life lessons over the past few years has also brought me and my mother together again and we may not have the bond of a mother/daughter but we have a FRIENDSHIP and UNDERSTANDING of each other now and it is just so fantastic to be able to write this, ending my story on a positive note. The sacrafices I have had to make have enabled me to re-connect with my mother and I feel truly blessed for this, it is after all what I have been seeking all my life. My mother now accepts me for all that I am and all that I am not as do I with her!!

I might not ever hear these words from my mother but I am able to say to her; I love you mum and I know you feel the same about me!!

So HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY to YOU and ALL my adoptive mum's!!!

God Bless!