Thursday, February 11, 2016

My Story: it wasn't always sweet as candy

Some days where cold and lonely. 

Disclaimer: This is only from the eyes of a preschooler. 

At one point in time only my mother and her younger sister remained in the Dominican Republic. All their other siblings and mother had migrated to the States and they were in the process of getting them two there too. But as that was happening the sisters had to survive on their own. 

My aunt ended up moving with her boyfriend at that time and my mom was left homeless with my brother and I. She was in her early 20s with no husband and to make matters worse the love of her life was in jail. You might wonder where was his family that she had no where to go but apparently they were at war with her. It must have been a pretty nasty war that they wouldn't even take the kids, their own niece, nephew, grandchildren, into their home but it's all good. For sometime as I was growing up and heard the stories I held grudges against them all. All of them. I couldn't understand how they would allow my mother to struggle the way she did with us. But with time I was able to forgive and move on. After all we all make mistakes. 

I'm sure that there were many instances of struggles for my mom but there is one in particular that I can't get rid of. The image of a young mother holding two young kids while sitting on a bench in front of a hospital across from a church. Yes, this is a true story and yes that young women was my mother, brother, and I. 

I don't know how many times this happened or how often but eventually my brother and I ended up moving in with our grandparents. Rumors say that my father heard of the injustice of his family towards my mother and put them all in their place. He couldn't believe that his own family had allowed such things to happen, especially knowing that we were his children. Eventually they did the right thing. 

My mom is a strong woman. She is not perfect, far from it if you ask me, but she is strong stronger then what she believes she is. She did whatever she had to do to make it and protect her children.  She managed to enroll me in a catholic school and even if she was a bit crazy for putting me on a public bus at age 5 all by myself to make it to said school (I find this hilarious!) she raised a God fearing woman who will forever love her and care for her till the end. 

I like to think that back in the day people were more trustworthy. Everyone was willing to help one another without expecting nothing in return. You know that saying "it takes a village to raise a child"? Well back when I was a kid this was the honest truth. Everyone was involved. Everyone helped. Neighbors were family. 

It surprises me beyond believe on the  many things that I can remember from my very young days. Because of this I try to make my children's memories as pleasant as possible. That it's not always the case of course because you know, we are not perfect but I believe that the good memories will outweigh the bad and if there are such bad I pray that my children will forgive me, us. Why? Because at the end of the day we are not perfect.


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