Mother’s Day is the most difficult day of the year for me. Everyone else takes time to remember their mother and her contribution to their life. My memories are that I my mother’s contribution to my life was that I survived her, and in so doing became the over-strong personality I am.
To the 'over-strong personality', Thomas McKelvey Cleaver with facets of light and dark; searching,
learning and creating; flying high and low. Your respect, caring and love; we see you, Tom, and feel your determination. Bravo! Thank you for being our scripter on this Mothers' Day.
I haven't called her yet. The now-widowed fundamentalist fanatic who beat us. Her mother saw me, loved me, gave me hardiness, resilience, and a calf that grew into 30 head of cattle that financed my escape. I live in joy and at 68, treasure it. Can't quite see the reason I need to contact her on this made-up holiday. She hasn't spoken to me since I married my beloved in December.
I don't know if it is the most difficult day of the year, but it sure fills me with gratitude for the wonder of my life now.
Thanks, TC, for opening up these secrets and your candid writing.
Kim, I’m glad your grandmother was there for you. I had a “niephew” (genderqueer child of my brother in law who had a fertility episode in his 20’s and fathered two children 6 months apart; different crazy women) who always referred to their mother as “female birthing unit”. Sounds like your mom’s soul sister.
Many of us who survived nontraditional childhoods in the 50s and 60s came out of it hurting, but stronger and determined to not repeat the mistakes they endured.
My mother left while I was at school in first grade. No goodbye and she took my toddler brother. I came home to find my father there that afternoon. For almost a year I lived with relatives across the state. My mother spent the next 12 years until I was 18 offering enticements and begging me to tell the judge I wanted to live with her. I declined. I always had a hard time finding a Mother’s Day card for her.
I was blessed that my father remarried and my stepmother was the true mother I’d never had. Today we celebrate her at age 95!
I’m sorry you suffered her abuse and watched your siblings suffer as well. Generational abuse and pain haunt our human history. You survived and succeeded despite her, I hope that gives some comfort, it’s a true victory.
My only child died from complications from type 1 diabetes at 26 in 1994. Now with my own mother gone, this is a very tender day. Most holidays are a double edged sword for many of us. The walking wounded are everywhere, something I try to remember as I encounter difficult people.
I send love from my broken Mother’s heart to your broken ‘child within’ heart Tom. You are not only a survivor, but, a warrior for good.
This article made me a paid subscriber. I'm so sorry you went thru that. My experience isn't that traumatic but an alcoholic mother and a co dependent father, with their fights, separations and chaos robbed me of a close and loving relationship with either. I still resent them and resent the fact that I didn't mourn either when they died. Keep up the writing. And stay strong.
Bloody hell. I've heard stories like yours in AA speaker meetings (I wasn't in AA, but went with a friend to support her recovery). That you survived without abusing chemicals or alcohol is a testament to your strength of character. It does also explain a lot about your personality.
My mother grew up in an abusive home; she refused to her dying day to talk about her childhood with either my sisters or me. I have a strong suspicion she was sexually abused by my maternal grandfather. The story I got is that she married my father because he was the first young man of quality to show interest in her. My mother never physically abused me--I was spanked exactly once-but she did not show the love a mother ordinarily would to a son (same for my sisters). It was literally years before I recieved a hug from her. Our relationship was decidedly mercurial and became more so in my adult life.
All that said, she worked hard to broaden my interests from just aviation, taking me (dragging me, really) to concerts, art museums, plays, and musical theatre. When I have an interest in any of those, I think of her and the seeds she planted. I feel a lot more compassion for her now than I used to.
I did my time with alcohol, just lucky enough to never get into Serious Trouble with it other than one night trying to keep up with some Royal Navy sailors in Hong Kong (don't try this at home, kids) when thank god someone turned me on my stomach back aboard ship. Then one day several years ago I just asked myself why was I doing this, and stopped.
My parents were OK. My mother is still around and I'm thankful for that. My dad passed two years ago. They divorced when I was nine. It was who they married afterwards that bugged me. My dad moved across the Detroit River to Windsor and married a "Miss-I-Know-Everything." She could be fun, but mostly she was annoying. My mother married a guy who was a "I-know-better-than-you-and-you'll-never-amount-to-anything," asshole. He provided well, but was very selfish and couldn't keep his zipper up, either. I was nonplussed about his death a year ago. I stopped giving a shit about him 25 years ago. I gave him credit for a few things, but he chased away his own kids, plus had no relations with the two 'extra's.'
I keep thinking a lot of things would be better in the US if we had a decent social safety net.
I'm sorry both parents married such jerks. I have one friend whose father remarried a total jerk. Luckily his mother remarried a wonderful guy who was a second father to my friend.
My dad's widow, Canadian, is from Manitoba. She's lived in that apartment building in Windsor, for 60 years. Because she's been there so long, she pays just $700 a month. ($550 US) She is now talking about moving back to Manitoba. Which I predicted years ago.
I "liked" this not because it was likable but because I can relate. I was beaten from about age 4 (when I started kindergarten) until I left (ran away from) home after I turned 21. Getting an A- instead of an A because I "was lazy." Spelling a word wrong. So many many trivial things that didn't warrant a beating. Really, what "misdeed" ever warrants beating a child? I graduated from UCBerkeley then went on to a doctoral degree, got married and had my first child without either parent in my life.
In 1997 my dad died suddenly from an aneurysm. I always felt guilty for thinking the wrong parent died. She sent over a legal letter for me to sign which stated that I understood that I was being intentionally disinherited and that I would not contest her will. My brother was assigned 70% and my sisters 10%, and funnily my sisters feel it's unfair that they weren't getting equal shares! /s
Over the years I have seen very little of her or them. They have been dealing with her health and aging issues, and placed her in a care home about 2 years ago, after I refused to let her come live with me and my family. To this day I am still puzzled as to why they even asked, as they witnessed (but ignored?) the toxicity over the years.
I used to spend time poring over suitable Mother's Day cards every year, but last year I finally came to my senses. I acknowledge that she gave birth to me, but my gratitude and appreciation every Mother's Day goes to all the non-family women who were there for me over the decades since I left home. I have been very fortunate to have them, so that I did change my mind about not ever having children, and so that I didn't become a terror like my birth mother.
Lordy, I can only imagine a Mother’s Day card that would have been appropriate for that “Mommie Dearest.” Obviously, mothering instincts are not automatic. One must have a heart first.
I’ll repeat what I posted on HCR’s substack. It fits. “During my 20 years of working at all levels of public high schools, I met many women (mothers) who never should have been allowed near young children. Every year on Mother’s Day, I think of these women and how most can do great harm to their offspring. Then there are those who give motherly love to needy, damaged little souls and to those they meet by “chance and affinity.” Thank you for highlighting those who care and guide without an agenda.”
I have met a man who is the youngest of eight and was the “identified problem.” At the end of his mother’s life, she admitted that she had never liked him and probably should have treated him better. That is still painful for him to say. As he told me, he is the only person to have been a therapist at the psychiatric hospital where he was later a patient. Generational?? Always…
Years ago, I was a foster parent for a young troubled guy in high school. He was/is a Borderline PD. It was a roller coaster ride that I don’t have the words to describe. You are truly a survivor…
Wonderfully written (of course). Thank you for giving a voice to countless
"unloved" children (or at least children who could not ever feel safe with the "love" they got). To those, today is a celebration of surviving, of the warrior inside, despite the broken places.
To the 'over-strong personality', Thomas McKelvey Cleaver with facets of light and dark; searching,
learning and creating; flying high and low. Your respect, caring and love; we see you, Tom, and feel your determination. Bravo! Thank you for being our scripter on this Mothers' Day.
Thanks. the Fern Seal of Approval is highly regarded.
Tom, so dear.
I wondered about the "over-strong personality" thing myself.
who sez?
In person, people have told me I have to be taken in small doses.
I haven't called her yet. The now-widowed fundamentalist fanatic who beat us. Her mother saw me, loved me, gave me hardiness, resilience, and a calf that grew into 30 head of cattle that financed my escape. I live in joy and at 68, treasure it. Can't quite see the reason I need to contact her on this made-up holiday. She hasn't spoken to me since I married my beloved in December.
I don't know if it is the most difficult day of the year, but it sure fills me with gratitude for the wonder of my life now.
Thanks, TC, for opening up these secrets and your candid writing.
Love and hugs
Congratulations to you, Kim!
Kim, I’m glad your grandmother was there for you. I had a “niephew” (genderqueer child of my brother in law who had a fertility episode in his 20’s and fathered two children 6 months apart; different crazy women) who always referred to their mother as “female birthing unit”. Sounds like your mom’s soul sister.
"Female birthing unit." That's a good description of Mommie Dearest.
In Bryony’s case, it was 100% accurate. I was the only family member who could deal with her when Bryony died. FBU thought I was my b-I-l’s sister….
Sounds like you're doing what's best for you, and it doesn't sound like you owe the fundie fanatic a thing. Stay strong!
Many of us who survived nontraditional childhoods in the 50s and 60s came out of it hurting, but stronger and determined to not repeat the mistakes they endured.
My mother left while I was at school in first grade. No goodbye and she took my toddler brother. I came home to find my father there that afternoon. For almost a year I lived with relatives across the state. My mother spent the next 12 years until I was 18 offering enticements and begging me to tell the judge I wanted to live with her. I declined. I always had a hard time finding a Mother’s Day card for her.
I was blessed that my father remarried and my stepmother was the true mother I’d never had. Today we celebrate her at age 95!
I can't like this, Tom. I'm still haunted by my own childhood and teen years with an alcoholic
mother. Our saving grace was our grandmother and the times,
many, we lived with her on the farm, until we were briefly reclaimed.
I am sorry for all of us who don't
look back on this day with Mom
in our hearts.😪
You're one of the ones I celebrate Victoria. You won.
You are a miracle in my life Tom..you not only survived mommy dearest but you
Thrive and inspire with every word you write… my first born son was born on
Mother’s Day May 14th 1967 ..second son born August 18th 1969… unlike your nightmare existence my mother and father
Nurtured and loved me the way parents
Should so when I became a parent I had
Healthy examples to try to emulate and aspire as an adult to continue to give love kindness and acceptance…Mother’s Day
Is tough because my son that died needed
Heart transplant and he was too sick to
Get a heart and he’s my first born my
Mothers Day began on Mother’s Day
Know through my Hospice Counseling
For almost thirty years too many historical
Documents of terror children who were
Abused tortured and never listened to or believed…I’m here to validate you are
Remarkable I admire you for your strength
Not only to survive but to share and heal
What a beautiful soul you are All My
Healing Love and Hugs, Marsha
Forever treasure and trust your truth🌹
I’m sorry you suffered her abuse and watched your siblings suffer as well. Generational abuse and pain haunt our human history. You survived and succeeded despite her, I hope that gives some comfort, it’s a true victory.
My only child died from complications from type 1 diabetes at 26 in 1994. Now with my own mother gone, this is a very tender day. Most holidays are a double edged sword for many of us. The walking wounded are everywhere, something I try to remember as I encounter difficult people.
I send love from my broken Mother’s heart to your broken ‘child within’ heart Tom. You are not only a survivor, but, a warrior for good.
Tender day, for so many, on both sides of the generational divide
This article made me a paid subscriber. I'm so sorry you went thru that. My experience isn't that traumatic but an alcoholic mother and a co dependent father, with their fights, separations and chaos robbed me of a close and loving relationship with either. I still resent them and resent the fact that I didn't mourn either when they died. Keep up the writing. And stay strong.
You survived and became who you are. That's a win!
Not because of, in spite of. Double win…
Mother’s Day is my least favorite holiday, for several reasons. Thank you, TC, for allowing me to acknowledge it’s ok not to be happy today…
By the way Tom you’re not overstrong
You’re a guiding light of love and caring
And truth I have a lot of common sense and goodness and honesty and kindness
Is who you are .. I’m here .. learning, caring
Listening and sharing…after my son needing a heart and not being a candidate
Too sick to survive… I built a cardiac intensive care unit in Ecuador and four kids lives each day have been saved since 1993
Couldn’t save my son but could save other
Kids who had no money no chance ..
Believe giving heals … Tom you are giving
Every word you write is giving You Are
Cherished….hugs, Marsha ✅
You certainly are a blessing on the world
Your response to a life shattering loss is a testament to your love. Thank you.
Bloody hell. I've heard stories like yours in AA speaker meetings (I wasn't in AA, but went with a friend to support her recovery). That you survived without abusing chemicals or alcohol is a testament to your strength of character. It does also explain a lot about your personality.
My mother grew up in an abusive home; she refused to her dying day to talk about her childhood with either my sisters or me. I have a strong suspicion she was sexually abused by my maternal grandfather. The story I got is that she married my father because he was the first young man of quality to show interest in her. My mother never physically abused me--I was spanked exactly once-but she did not show the love a mother ordinarily would to a son (same for my sisters). It was literally years before I recieved a hug from her. Our relationship was decidedly mercurial and became more so in my adult life.
All that said, she worked hard to broaden my interests from just aviation, taking me (dragging me, really) to concerts, art museums, plays, and musical theatre. When I have an interest in any of those, I think of her and the seeds she planted. I feel a lot more compassion for her now than I used to.
I like hearing that.
I did my time with alcohol, just lucky enough to never get into Serious Trouble with it other than one night trying to keep up with some Royal Navy sailors in Hong Kong (don't try this at home, kids) when thank god someone turned me on my stomach back aboard ship. Then one day several years ago I just asked myself why was I doing this, and stopped.
My parents were OK. My mother is still around and I'm thankful for that. My dad passed two years ago. They divorced when I was nine. It was who they married afterwards that bugged me. My dad moved across the Detroit River to Windsor and married a "Miss-I-Know-Everything." She could be fun, but mostly she was annoying. My mother married a guy who was a "I-know-better-than-you-and-you'll-never-amount-to-anything," asshole. He provided well, but was very selfish and couldn't keep his zipper up, either. I was nonplussed about his death a year ago. I stopped giving a shit about him 25 years ago. I gave him credit for a few things, but he chased away his own kids, plus had no relations with the two 'extra's.'
I keep thinking a lot of things would be better in the US if we had a decent social safety net.
I'm sorry both parents married such jerks. I have one friend whose father remarried a total jerk. Luckily his mother remarried a wonderful guy who was a second father to my friend.
My dad's widow, Canadian, is from Manitoba. She's lived in that apartment building in Windsor, for 60 years. Because she's been there so long, she pays just $700 a month. ($550 US) She is now talking about moving back to Manitoba. Which I predicted years ago.
I am so deeply sorry this was your experience — and so proud of you (even if I have no right to be) for surviving it.
I "liked" this not because it was likable but because I can relate. I was beaten from about age 4 (when I started kindergarten) until I left (ran away from) home after I turned 21. Getting an A- instead of an A because I "was lazy." Spelling a word wrong. So many many trivial things that didn't warrant a beating. Really, what "misdeed" ever warrants beating a child? I graduated from UCBerkeley then went on to a doctoral degree, got married and had my first child without either parent in my life.
In 1997 my dad died suddenly from an aneurysm. I always felt guilty for thinking the wrong parent died. She sent over a legal letter for me to sign which stated that I understood that I was being intentionally disinherited and that I would not contest her will. My brother was assigned 70% and my sisters 10%, and funnily my sisters feel it's unfair that they weren't getting equal shares! /s
Over the years I have seen very little of her or them. They have been dealing with her health and aging issues, and placed her in a care home about 2 years ago, after I refused to let her come live with me and my family. To this day I am still puzzled as to why they even asked, as they witnessed (but ignored?) the toxicity over the years.
I used to spend time poring over suitable Mother's Day cards every year, but last year I finally came to my senses. I acknowledge that she gave birth to me, but my gratitude and appreciation every Mother's Day goes to all the non-family women who were there for me over the decades since I left home. I have been very fortunate to have them, so that I did change my mind about not ever having children, and so that I didn't become a terror like my birth mother.
Lordy, I can only imagine a Mother’s Day card that would have been appropriate for that “Mommie Dearest.” Obviously, mothering instincts are not automatic. One must have a heart first.
I’m inspired by your strength to share this with us.
I’ll repeat what I posted on HCR’s substack. It fits. “During my 20 years of working at all levels of public high schools, I met many women (mothers) who never should have been allowed near young children. Every year on Mother’s Day, I think of these women and how most can do great harm to their offspring. Then there are those who give motherly love to needy, damaged little souls and to those they meet by “chance and affinity.” Thank you for highlighting those who care and guide without an agenda.”
I have met a man who is the youngest of eight and was the “identified problem.” At the end of his mother’s life, she admitted that she had never liked him and probably should have treated him better. That is still painful for him to say. As he told me, he is the only person to have been a therapist at the psychiatric hospital where he was later a patient. Generational?? Always…
Years ago, I was a foster parent for a young troubled guy in high school. He was/is a Borderline PD. It was a roller coaster ride that I don’t have the words to describe. You are truly a survivor…
"Identified problem." That was me. Told I was "the family black sheep" to my face.
Wonderfully written (of course). Thank you for giving a voice to countless
"unloved" children (or at least children who could not ever feel safe with the "love" they got). To those, today is a celebration of surviving, of the warrior inside, despite the broken places.
You're one of them Jodi.