A Mother's Pain.
In my abuse page I made comparisons to a Dickens novel. This poor woman's young life was exactly that. A cold, dark, austere childhood that would have given Charles more than a few sleepless nights.
Born in 1936, she was the oldest of 4 children who shared the same Mother but each had a different Father. As the oldest she was designated Mother as her own Mother and my future abuser went trawling the pubs and clubs of pre-war London soaking herself in gin and men. She never had a job in her life and lived off benefits, dodgy raffle's that only she would, or one of her children, would win and men.
Her Mother encourage her to get to know the neighbours and she would actually rent her out to clean houses and get shopping. Try and get her to steal when no one was looking. My Mother was forced to sleep in her Mothers bedroom whether men were present or not. Life was hard, hungry and cold. My Mother told me that she was often grouped in the middle of the night when her Mother was asleep by her questionable suitors. As the appointed Mother to 3 young children she did not have the time for school so when she went out to work all she could write was her name and birth date. She left the family home and moved in with her Grandmother when she was 15 and started a life of her own.
She went to a factory job and independence. My Mothers idea of Heaven at this time was the cinema. She was a great fan of the Hollywood musicals and would often see films 3, 4 or 5 times. She never really lost this love and still enjoys watch them today but not as ardently.
So one day this young woman was talked into going to a dance by a friend and there she met my Father. Her fate was sealed and she had no idea what she would learn over the next few years. All the demons that prayed on her childhood came back. Imagine, a virgin meeting an experienced thrice married man certainly educated in the ways of the world. Her education would be just as savage and she would have to face her past.
My Mother did not become her Mother. She fought her past and tried her best to give her children what she never had. Love, support, understanding and safety. She never laid a hand on me until I was 14 and really upset my Father. That was the first and only time. hen I was going through my divorce she shared with me how guilty she was that she did not do more to stop my Father.
She really is quite remarkable and I dedicated this poem to her...
In my darkest night with only pain,
Where tears fall from my heart like rain,
Where all I know has been wiped away,
When my life's perpetual night with no day.
In my blackest time when hope has died,
There is salvation free from my pride,
There comes the rising of my sun,
Banishing the darkness - Comes my Mum.
Where once was pain she wipes my tears,
Thanks to her Love I no longer fear,
I know will grow and thrive,
Free from lies and a dying life.
I have no doubt at what I've become,
It's thanks to the love of My wonderful Mum,
I lived in darkness without realisation,
That I was dying daily from love depravation.
Thanks to her love and Gentle healing,
She awakened in me a new way of feeling,
That money is not the answer to all things,
And Love and Loyalty must be your kings.
This Wonderful woman started to show me,
That a Mother's love last for all eternity,
After my cruel and arrogant mind,
That hurt and neglected this one of a kind.
I'm lucky - it's thanks to her forgiving heart,
That I did not lose her - my greater part,
Without her my life would now be destroyed,
As I ate and drunk myself into the void.
To her I swear that I will never again,
Let my life be ruled by money and sin,
I'll never ignore my treasured one,
My adoring, lovely, caring Mum.
copyright: Alan Graham 2002 - 2010
It is a great sadness to me that my Mother will not communicate with me until I come back to England and stop being selfish. I pray that we are reconciled before she passes from this world.
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