Growing Pains


I was four years old when I first realized what really was going on. I soon realized my mother was hurting and unstable. She would move from trailer to trailer, man to man, and addiction to addiction. It was tragic, for her, especially me. We stayed in unstable conditions till I was about five years old, when my grandparents begged her to let me live with them for safety reasons. So, she decided it was the best thing for me, since she was the way she was. She would come and visit me every other month unexpectedly and would stay and leave, stay and leave, and stay and leave. I would cry my eyes out every night, wondering why my mommy left me, why she didn't want me, why I wasn't enough to make her stay. It was hard for me as the months turned to years, I remember crying over her and the horrible situations she put herself in, drugs, alcohol, and other things. This went on till I was in middle school that was when I accepted Jesus as my lord and savior.

That changed my whole life; it helped me through the pain as well. I would always try my best to forget about her, thinking it would help me live a some what normal life like the kids with nice parents. My thinking on it was, 'oh, well she doesn't really exist, or at least in my life'. She would come back home and live with us, on and off, on and off, it was a constant growing pain for me, even as I got older. However, by ninth grade, I had almost completely forgotten about her, she was living the life she choose, drugs and alcohol. I remember always thinking about how she cared about the drugs more than me, and I was her only child. I struggled with feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and had trouble gaining self confidence. I don't remember truly having a self esteem, until I got saved and realized how Jesus thought I was important and loved me even though my mother didn't.

The years continued to go by, we would talk on the phone, and have our good times and our bad times. She always seemed to show up at Christmas, Thanksgiving, and sometimes my Birthday. I remember now how one time a year went by without even hearing from or seeing her, I basically had forgotten about her by then. She eventually called and told me her sob story, I never believed a word she said, especially when she said 'I love you', that meant absolutely nothing to me, in fact at one point I thought it was impossible for anyone to love me. She seemed to always tell me her pathetic sob stories and her excuses for never being there for me. Those were some hard times, I never felt accepted, especially by her. Now, she's somewhat in my life, she keeps trying to get off drugs and turn her life around, I know now, she means well, I guess that's just the effect drugs can have on a person. They control you and screw up your life to the point that you can't love anyone, especially yourself.

I continued to grow in my faith, made better grades, had a hope and peace that passed all understanding, she continued to try to get better, but the truth is every time she came home, I always forgave her; some how Jesus helped me to. She knew that too, I had always loved her, the real question was, did she love me? I know now that she does, addictions make it seem as though they don't. My situation now isn't what you would call perfect, but it's a start, she is trying, we are talking and we understand one another. I know she loves me and Jesus continues to help me love her even though it can be tuff sometimes. Jesus has saved my relationship with my mother and me, if it weren't for him, my mother probably would have never even tried to change, not to mention being a part of my life. That's my relationship with my mother, growing pains and all.