I discovered tonight that my mother passed away at the end of May. She was technically my stepmother but that distinction only entered the picture after my father died and her biological children re-entered her life.
For me, she was the first person with the title of “mother” that ever made me feel as if I actually had one, had a mother. We had a long, complicated, and often difficult journey together and for the past year and a half, we have not been in each other’s lives for a variety of reasons. But I’ve never forgotten that she made me feel loveable and wanted and as if I deserved to be alive at a time when things could have gone very very wrong for me.
I shared with her more than once that she saved my life and I still hold that truth dearly. When I think of the “why” behind how I’ve survived my childhood and turned out to be a halfway decent human being, I always think of Frances. I know beyond any doubt that I would have fallen into a much darker path of destruction had I not been blessed with her love, her patience, her kindness… her mothering… when I did.
May all that you believed in be waiting for you on the other side of the veil, Mom. I’ll always be grateful for having you in my life.
