My Mother

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I think this is going to be one of the most difficult posts I will write, and not to keep it short is going to be even more difficult, because there is so much to say, but I will do my best not to make this post too long – here it goes. You know what, what a better day than today “Father’s Day” to post this.

If you haven’t had a chance to read my “About Me” page, it says a little bit about my mom and our experiences in the US. You see my mother came from a wealthy family, and I believe my great grandfather was in politics and was actually a good Politian. We lived in Acapulco for my first 5 years, and we had a beautiful house, a cook, and a servant, but they were more like family. I was in a private school and on my time off we would go water skiing, and boating, and just was a time I remember full of happiness. My mom did not work and spent her time either helping others, volunteering, or of course having lots of fun. Her family owns or owned a hotel in Acapulco, and my mom, of course, would be in the club, or restaurant having a blast. I would sometimes go there and visit her while she was partying, it was beautiful, just good happy memories.

Let me go back to before I was born. My mother traveled a lot, and I believe in one of those vacations, she met my father. They had a hot and steamy relationship and if I am correct, she got pregnant with me. The sad thing is that my father did not want to deal with his new family and found it easier to return to the United States. My mom had me and we lived in Acapulco. Her family supported her through everything and they told my mother that my father was not a good man and she should forget him. Well, unfortunately, my mother could not forget my dad and it seems that she kept in touch with him throughout the years. I remember one day, out of the blues, my mother told me and my brothers that we were moving to the states.

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The sad part here is that her family told her if she moved to the States with my father, she was going to get cut off financially and un-inherited from the family fortune. Guess what, my mother did not care, packed us up, and moved us to the US. The trip was long and treacherous since my mother had very little money, but I will have to write a separate post about that.

Once we arrived in the US and found our way to where my father lived, the horror began, and no I am not making this stuff up, it was a childhood that I cannot get out of my mind, and possibly sometimes it comes back and haunts me.

My father told my mother that he owned a few houses, but when we arrived it was actually a few trailers that he owned, and they were ugly, dirty, and disgusting – my father lived like a slob. From the first day, we arrived my father was cold and mean. He immediately told my mother she had to start cleaning, he began to throw out some of her own stuff she had brought with her and told me and my brothers that he did not want to hear one sound from either of us. After maybe a month the abuse began, both mentally and physically.

We were there for just over a year when my oldest brother got sick, and they had to remove his tonsils. Unfortunately for whatever reason, he died on the operating table that day, and that is where my mother’s life changed for the worst – she was never the same and started to drink heavily. Sometime just a bit after my brother’s death, my father kicked us out onto the street; we had nothing, no car, only the clothing on our backs, and of course no money.

I am not sure how, but I think that my mother contacted her family in Mexico pleading, telling them what had happened; the loss of her son, my father kicking us out and they sent her some money. Later I found out that they asked her to come back and they would take care of me and my brother, but my mother was not all mentally there and she told them no. I think to myself what would have happened if she had said yes, what kind of life would I have had – of course, I will never know.

Now, my mother even though she never worked a day in her life, adapted quickly, found a job, and an apartment, and we moved on. Over the years my father appeared ever so often, sometimes he was nice, and other times he was abusive. He was physically abusive towards my mother and not us, but there were times he would certainly put a whooping on me or my brother, as for the mental abuse he inflicted on us – there are no words.

My mother held all kinds of jobs, she was a car salesman, she ran a doughnut shop, she was a hostess at a restaurant, and so many other things, but she had a drinking problem which later led to a gambling problem, and then a smoking problem which always ended in her losing her job. Through all this, I never understood why my mom did the things she did, was it the pain from the loss of her child, was it because of the abusiveness of my father, was it being an outcast by her family, I don’t know, but now that I am older with a family, and what I have been through as an adult, I totally get her.

I was 15 when my mother was diagnosed with cancer in the bones. She lived out her last, almost three years, with me, you see my brother dropped out of school and disappeared for months at a time. As for my father I hadn’t heard from him in years, not one word, one happy birthday, nothing. I watched my mom go from a beautiful woman to a 90-pound skeleton. Just one month before my 19th birthday, one month after graduating high school, my mother passed away – I was left, literally, all alone in this world.

Today, I think back on all that my mother had been through, and I know for a fact that she was one of the bravest, toughest, kindest, most loving woman and mother that walked this earth. I lived a very hard life as a kid, but you know what (Crying), I would do it all over again with her at my side. I love you, mom. Mom, I think I turned out ok, I do have my corks, but I know you did your best, and you raised me to be the man I am today.

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I am all choked up, but I hope this post was too long, but I definitely want to leave you with a thought, “Life is not always kind to us, and we will experience happiness, sadness, fear, depression, anger and so much more, but if you step back a moment, take a deep breath, and look at yourself, you made it this far, you are an amazing person and never forget that.

Father’s Gift Idea, Arrives Today.
Happy Father’s Day To All The Dads

Published by iPapito

Strange but true, I was born in San Salvador, as an abroad US citizen. It sounds strange, but you see, my mother was 5 months pregnant and happen to be visiting San Salvador. She slipped and fell in a pool and well, I was born. I am a twin, but unfortunately, he did not make and I did. My mother’s side of the family happens to be well of, and I had the opportunity to live a nice life early in my childhood. You know, private school, servant, nice home, and vacations. Things change when my mother decided to follow my father to the United States and well, that is where my story begins. I started a blog a while back, but life sort of hit and I left it behind, but now as I am a bit older, I decided I needed an avenue to share my experiences with others, while at the same time allowing me to open up and talk like I am on someone’s couch, I guess you could say. This blog will be more like an open book, created by experiences that I have had throughout my life. Experiences that many could relate to and what I did or how I handled it, you know after the fact. You never know there just might be a piece of information, idea, an option that someone could use and it would help them through the experience. Just remember these are my experiences, things I have been through, work through, and lived through – it does not mean I am right, but it does not mean I am wrong – it is simply an experience.

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