The Midlife

In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, I wanted to post about my OG first love: my mom. My mom just celebrated her 82nd birthday, which is no doubt a privilege and a blessing. Recently, I shared that my mom is not well. And while I will go into it further on another post, today I want to share some of the reasons my mom has taken up much of my heart and always will.

My mother grew up in Cuba and came to the United States in 1969. She knew very little English and while she never worked for money until her 50s, her main job for the longest time was caring for me, my two sisters, and brother. And my dad, her other big baby.

I guess you could say my mom has always been a scrappy survivor. When she was only two years old, her mother died, and she was raised by my great-grandmother – another badass baddie. So, she faced early challenges before coming to the United States to face more.

Growing up, my mom prided herself on taking care of people. She was there cleaning up, straightening up, fixing up. She brought plates of food, refilled your drink, served as gorgeous party hostess. I can’t say she was always sparked by joy, but she definitely put on her best game face at all times.

My mom had my brother when she was not quite a young adult. She went on to raise three, very different daughters – each bringing her our own personal mischievous ways. She has laughed with us and cried with us and for us. She carried that burden weightlessly, with an unflappable facade.

When I was 12 years old, my dad got sick with leukemia and eventually died. To be my mom at that point in time, with three girls under the age of 16 and a grown-up son, I can only imagine she cried alone at night. She didn’t want us to be scared, but I’m sure she was terrified. She hadn’t worked in any professional capacity, and here she would have to in order to provide for us.

I can vividly remember seeing my mom at our kitchen table years later studying English formally. She took an English class at our area vocational school and later earned a certification as a CNA. She’d go on and work in a nursing home part-time; again, she readjusted her crown in caring and serving others. And while there were challenges for her to work in her 50s, she enjoyed helping people, especially the elderly.

When my eldest sister got married and entered graduate school, she developed lung cancer. My mom quit her job and took care of her full-time, because she would not have had it any other way. She pushed Ensure, monitored medicine, put my sister to bed, and prayed. And prayed. Although my sister eventually died, my mother did right by her and her illness. She never faltered. The purity of my mom’s love is hard to describe and absolutely unforgettable.

I’m painting a beautiful picture of a beautiful person inside and out. But my mom has her flaws. She’s made me cry. She’s made me angry. We’ve fought and spent short periods of time without talking. But forgiveness took over. I respect her and love her with all of my heart. She’s always had it and always will. It’s probably because of her flaws and endearing imperfections that draw me most to her.

So, in the spirit of Valentine’s, dear reader – who takes up real estate in your heart? What do they do to drive you crazy? Crazier in love? Please leave a comment or email to themidlife2021@gmail.com. Love, -C:)