Iron Lady

My parents separated and divorced when I was about ten years old.  At first, Daddy visited us on our birthdays and Christmas and we spent weekends at his place at the beach.  But slowly the phone calls and visits decreased, and by the time I was around fifteen years old, he had disappeared.

Mom was left to raise us four kids.  She struggled to make ends meet and I imagine it was exhausting to do everything by herself.  I raised four kids too but I had a husband who helped me.  I don't know how Mom managed, but day after day with no one to help her, she did.

When I was 21 years old I heard that my father had had a stroke.  I traveled south to the hospital and twice went to see him.  I don't remember what we talked about and the visits were short.  But I do remember that I told him I loved him, which wasn't something I said very often.  And he said, "Me too, Bug."  That was the last time I saw my father; he died a few days later.

I'm glad I got the chance to tell my father that I loved him because I did love him.  But it wasn't until I was married and had my own children that I fully understood what a lousy thing he did, abandoning his four kids after the divorce.  I forgive him and I still love him, but he wasn't a very good father.

On the other hand, Mom, who is 88 years old now, is still there for me.  Even though we may get impatient with each other, or hurt each other's feelings, or I might not make the choices she thinks I should make, I know she still loves me.  I know that if I need anything at all I can call her and she will help me.  Her strength has been a safety net for me all of my life.  Thanks, Mom.  I love you.