Before we were Roses: Family and the Angels that Served

      

   Someone sent me a message today asking me if I remembered her. I had met her once when she had given my mother a ride home from work , she was my mothers co-worker. My mother was juggling her job and 4 kids and trying to make the best out of it. Sometimes she would rely on me heavy to cook dinner for my two youngest sisters and try to be the responsible one for all 3 of us. It was extremely difficult . We made it work. Like the time one of my sisters got into a huge fight with me that ended up with her throwing a butcher knife though my door and hitting me in the face with the dull side. I don't think she meant to hit me with the dull side and I still love her to this day. We had angels that would pop in and out of our lives that would help my mother out. If it was bringing bags of food. Maybe helping out during Christmas. There were many women my mother would find that were miracle workers for her. This person is no different. Although I cannot remember the time we met. I do remember all the times I was thankful for people helping us out when they didn't have to. For their service and compassion I will always be grateful.
          That time was difficult for all of us especially my mother. The stresses we show our children are nothing like the ones we withhold from them. Speaking as a father I know this to be more then true. We had a routine at times where my mother would ask me to pick up my sister Katie who was only a baby in daycare if she wasn't going to be home in time. The walk seemed forever and I would say yes no matter the whether. We were like a team at times . My mother always preached family first. Always protect your sister, hold doors for women, be respectful, be polite, never lose your imagination. I can go on and on with the lessons she would teach. Or tell you how I watched her struggle from choices and at the hands of domestic violence. I even watched her try to commit suicide. I took it real bad. I felt as if she placed that before her kids. Before me, if she loved me so much how could she try to even do something like this? But she struggled then like I struggled later on in life and now I get it. When you feel so trapped inside yourself and that internalized pain is far greater then any pain you have ever felt externally you implode. Not always in suicide but addiction, self harm, abuse and bullying of others, etc. She is a warrior and we all made it through those times together.  At that time she had her heart broken by my stepfather and he had just thrown her across the room in front me of the day before.
             We had so  many ups and downs as family, we were very poor and she was a single mother working to just stay afloat. Some winters the oil would run out with no money to fill the tank we would bundle up and turn the stove on to attempt to heat some of the house. It was at those moments you realize family is all you have. We were all stressed. I showed it mostly in school. My class work was off the charts but I did not participate in homework. I was either too focused on what the adults were struggling with or out committing some form of crime. Smashing house windows, stealing, lighting fires, breaking in to peoples houses and cars. I would steal so many things from stores then try to turn around and sell them in school. I never saved the money  I didn't know what to do with it. We never had any and I never knew the value of a dollar. My first 13 years in this world were primarily on paper food stamps. I still remember the 1 dollar brown bills in food stamp money.
             My home life would sometimes get exposed at school if my mother decided to challenge the "system". Like the time my mother wrote to the newspaper. In it she wrote how the school system was unfair to lower income families. Mainly in regards to her not being able to afford football equipment for me. I love her for what she did but I was so embarrassed at school. I tried to hide that we were poor. But it was too late and the captain of the football team walked by me on the way to class and asked, " Why is your mother such a ( The word is completely inappropriate)". I lost it on him. I threatened his life. I was going to pick up the pipe right near my hand and split him open. I hurt because I knew even in high school how hard she fought for us. She gave her life up to raise us.  Bullying is real and you never know what kind of home life someone has and the struggle they face just to show up  for life daily. You also never know who that person may become . There is a saying I live by, " Never look down on someone that maybe one day you may look up too".
             My family has character and everyone of us are characters. We are warriors that have survived so much as family. We have had have had angels that I only can thank God for placing them in our lives when we needed them most. My grandmother although we had our battles and it may seem like just my resentments I am grateful for. I can still see her walking up the street on multiple Christmases with bags of toys that she had taken on the train and carried them to us from her home. My mother like my grandmother raised their kids alone . They share the same struggle. Also the same love for kids. I owe a lot of who I am from watching them. They did it better alone then other time with any man. I learned how to be brave even though I am afraid of failing all the time. The message I got today brought me back to a time of struggle and appreciation and if I could ever do it again. I wouldn't change one thing.