The other night I was thinking about my mother, I never grew up with her or knew much of her until I was 15,  I had only vague memories of her but all of them were good.  Like the time I didn't get off at the right bus stop and I put so much fear on my mother, I remember how loving and worried she was, I knew I was loved.  Well, when I reconnected with her, we really connected.  I could talk to her about everything and anything.

Then things changed when I had my second daughter Valentina, I wondered how my mother could possibly have abandoned me when I was so small and vulnerable and then actually raise my youngest sister.  Well, the other night I thought who am I to judge my mother?  My goodness, I have not been the best mother but I have loved my children.

My mother may have not been the perfect mother but she was my mother and I know she loved me and wanted the best for me, she wanted me to be happy.  Isn't that what we really want for our children.

Yes my life growing up as a child was abusive and difficult but I over came it, there was no way that I was going to be defined by my ex step mother Ruth.  She was wrong about us, we didn't just survive we thrived.  We all raised strong, beautiful children.  I attest my strength to overcome my childhood to my mother in many ways, she had me for my most informative years and she always made me feel loved and wanted when I was around her.

I had that memory to get me through, so who am I to judge my mother when she gave me a strong foundation of love to begin with.  I have stumbled but I have never given up completely.  I have come to a point in my life that I understand that nothing is black and white, nothing.

I love my mother and I am glad that I told her that often.

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