I know I’ve written of it many times before – the soft and sheltered childhood I had. Looking back now I realize I was a little princess. I had no chores, no responsibilities and no worries. Yet I was a nervous and scared child – a worrywart. Some of that is just my personality, and some of it is because I’m a product of my environment. My mother was a stay at home mom with little social contact outside of family. She hated people, crowds and social situations. She never wanted to hang out with the neighbors. She was happiest reading, baking, gardening, or sewing. I always wanted to be her.
I had a good upbringing. Times were hard financially, but I never knew that. I was never told we were struggling at times. I had everything I wanted. There was always a new dolly whenever I wanted one so I was happy. True most of (if not all) of my clothing was homemade. I look at old photos, and everything I’m wearing is something Mom made. I thought it was because she loved to sew. I know differently now. I know it was because it cost less, too. Those handmade things caused me grief in high school. It was something else for the mean kids to ridicule. Never mind that the handmade things were prettier and better quality than some of the store bought items. They made me different and I hated that. I was determined when I had kids of my own that they’d never wear handmade clothes to school and they never did. I never picked up the gift of sewing. I never could master reading a pattern whether it was sewing or crocheting, and I never could master a sewing machine. My seams were crooked, the material ended up full of holes and bits of thread knots, and I broke needles on the sewing machine by the dozens. I never enjoyed it, and maybe I subconsciously thwarted it.
This time of year always brings back memories of my childhood. I try not to let it overwhelm me, but at times it does. I don’t want my sons to remember Mom crying every holiday. Hubby tells me I should be making happy memories for them, and I try to, but it’s hard. My family is all gone now. They moved away or died. My parents, aunt and grandparents are dead, and my cousins are scattered across other states. I’ve written of my brother before. We haven’t spoken in years, and I gave up on him after trying several times. In my mind’s eye I see all those smiling, happy faces from my childhood sitting around my mother’s dining room table. I cherish those memories and am truly thankful that I had those good people in my life.
I thank God for hubby. I am blessed that we found each other and have built a life and a family together. It has not been an easy life. We’ve struggled with money, ADHD, Autism, Diabetes, job losses and a part-time marriage for the past few years after he became a trucker. I am thankful for and proud of what we have together. I found my other half when I answered a newspaper ad 26 years ago. Not many marriages last 25 years these days. People give up too easily. Sometimes toughing it out through hard times makes marriages better and stronger. Thank you for always being there for me, honey. I love you.
I am thankful for the two handsome, funny and wonderful young men who share our home. I couldn’t have asked for better sons. Both of them are loving, sensitive and hard-working. Most importantly they are good men. They share a love of trains, and both have wicked senses of humor. They laugh and joke together, and they keep melancholy old Mom laughing, too. They’ve perked me up more than once. I am so glad I have them.
Happy Thanksgiving. I hope everyone finds something to be thankful for today.
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