I hear a lot about strength here on Daily Kos. I am the only girl among five boys and I was the one that was supposed to take care of all the problems. I was the one who was the caregiver to our Mom in the last years of her life. It was only at the end that Mom realized that I was strong and could take care of the problems that came up. That I had worth. When the new roof was leaking I was the one to contact the Better Business Bureau and got the repairs made. When her strength gave out I was the one who uprooted my life and moved in and took care of her. It was the only daughter that she never appreciated that turned out to be the only child willing to take care of her at the end of her life.
Growing up I kept hearing Mom say that her Mother always favored the boys over the girls and she was never going to be like that. You could have fooled me. Growing up it was very clear that I was her least favorite child. I was stubborn and very independent. Mom grew up with the prejudices of her era. I was fighting for civil rights, women’s rights, LGBTQ rights, and others that needed someone to fight for them.
Mom didn’t care for me and Dad cared too much. That is something at 73 I am still trying to process. I was trapped for six years in an abusive marriage. It is why I always say if someone asks if I would want to get married that I’ve been there, done that, using the t-shirt as a cleaning rag.
I was the one who had to help my niece and goddaughter get out of an abusive marriage. He finally dumped her with three children under the age of six, $20.00, and one suitcase of clothes for all of them. I was the one who spent an hour on the phone convincing her to give love another try when she met a wonderful man on Match.com. I made the wedding dress, flowers, favors, sang, and was a bridesmaid at the wedding. I was the one when she and her husband were unemployed that stood over a hot stove in a tiny apartment kitchen and made huge pots of sauces to go over industrial size bags of pasta.
I’m the one who had to clean up the mess from Mike’s death. I was the one who had to care for his grief stricken daughter and three grandchildren. I had to clean up the house and get it on the market.
I was the one who brought Reid out because I knew he wasn’t taking care of himself. I’m the one who has been on the phone to 911, listening for the ambulance, and trying to keep him from hurting himself when he went into a Grand Mal Seizure. I’m the one who has dealt with heart problems, diabetes out of control, kidney problems, stomach problems, pneumonia, strokes, and on and on and on.
Physically I’ve always been strong. Reid always says I’m strong like moose. This moose however is 73 years old with severe arthritis so I’m not as physically strong as I used to be,
It may be crazy but sometimes I get real tired of being strong.