I wrote this entry weeks ago, but have been lacking the courage to post it. I want to start off by saying my Mom is an amazing person and she and my Dad have done a great job raising me and shaping me to be the person I am today. February 8th is my birthday and also Bell’s Lets Talk Day, a day where for every text message sent and every long distance call made by Bell customers, they will donate 5 cents to mental health programs. I thought posting this during a week where Mental Health is on peoples minds would be as good a time as any to post my experience.
It took years until I realized my Mom was different than most Moms. I thought everyone was as lucky as me to have a Mom just like mine. Before I was of school age she would take me to the park every day before lunch so I could play. She woke early to listen to the radio, (later on to watch the weather channel) every day before school, so I would be dressed appropriately. If there was a chance of rain later that day I was always sent with an umbrella, regardless of the sun currently shinning and how much I pleaded not to take one. My lunch was always packed by her, never once forgotten; from the start of Kindergarten through to the end of High school she included notes in my lunch, wishing me a good day. She is a great listener, and always laughs at my exaggerated stories of my day.
My Mom is a stay at home Mom. I overheard that she use to work; that she was once a nurse. As a kid I wondered why she wasn’t anymore. When I was sick and missing a day of school there never was a “sleep and get better day” it was always “go to the doctor and be seen”; most of the time he would find nothing. But often I did have something, an ear infection or tonsillitis. By grade two I had tubes in my ears three times, and my adenoids and tonsils removed.
I have memories of going with my Mom to see her “Other Doctor”. Other Doctor was a woman, not a man; and her office was down town. I remember playing in the waiting room with the few toys they had there. Mom would always go into the room alone and left me in the waiting room. I always wondered what was going on down the hall, and why I couldn’t be there.
Sometimes Mom would get mad at me for things I didn’t do. I would plead my case but she would not believe me. I didn’t think much of it, I was a kid after all and kids lie. I wish she would have believed me though.
Part 2 will be posted on February 8th 2012 at 7:00am EST
Read Believe Me When I Write This; This Wasn’t Easy: Part 2 →
Part 3 will be posted on February 8th 2012 at 5pm EST
Read Believe Me When I Write This; This Wasn’t Easy: Part 3 →→
