Sometimes I do and it breaks my heart. I believe that most of us grow up not wanting to make the same mistakes that our mother made with us, those things that hurt us, those things that we as kids said to ourselves “I will never do that to my kids”. I had a few of those sentences in my mind, that’s for sure. My mum was a hard one, she meant good, as most of us, but she hurt us many times, not just me, but all of her kids. I’m the youngest of her 6 kids, so in a way, my older sisters and brothers where always trying to protect me and my sister Karen from mum, they did a great job, as much as they could. I wouldn’t say that I had an easy childhood, because I didn’t, my parents divorced when I was 6 and my mum took me to live with her, I loved my father, very much, we all did, he was a great man. It broke my heart when I had to go and live in another city, away from dad, I used to look at my friends parents and wished my parents were happy together, but they weren’t. My mum had a tough childhood too I guess and she was tough on us. My sister Karen and I escaped from home as soon as we could and we spent a few years hiding from her, until eventually we met again and made peace. But mum did something very good, she raised 6 kids that loved each other like nothing else. We love each other, every time I pick up the phone to talk with one of my siblings, all you can hear is us laughing. My relationship with my mum is good now, mostly because I have been living across the atlantic for 9 years, she is old now too, so we all pretend that nothing happened and try to be good kids, taking care of her. Don’t get me wrong, as much as she was tough, when she was in a good state of mind she was wonderful, she gave us a lot of good things and worked her ass off (together with my dad) to give us a good life (money wise), the best education and the luxury to travel a lot.
Anyways… Sometimes I feel like a bad mum and I wonder how Isa would look back and remember those times when I don’t live up to her expectations as a mum. She is growing up too and being a toddler doesn’t make it easier.
Chiquita, you know I write this blog for you, and sometime in the future when you read this, I want you to understand that I love you, that those times when you were little and Ella was stealing my attention from you, I was trying my best to keep an eye and an ear close to you so I wouldn’t miss any moment with you. That those times when you wanted to be in my arms but my arms had Ella trying to sleep I couldn’t just drop her and pick you up. That those times when I spent time with you training and you didn’t want to train and you would cry and cry and I would feel terribly guilty for pushing you to do something difficult for your body, I meant good, all I wanted was to help you. That all those times I started crying when you wanted me while I couldn’t help you I was crying because it made me feel awful not to be able to make you happy every single second of your life.