As a child, I grew up listening to my mother tell me everyday of all the things I had to be thankful for. The fact that they all depended upon her in some way may have clouded my perceptions a little. According to Mother, I should be thankful for the following things:
1. That she had it in her heart to take in this ugly, unwanted child and pay the enormous amount of money it took to adopt me.
2. That if not for her, I would be out on the streets or dead.
3. That all things I had or was able to accomplish were because of her. I had never been able to do things on my own.
4. That she was able to forgive me for all the horrible things (both real and imagined) I had ever done or said to her.
5. That she was a good mother whose only thought was for her children.
6. That she was able to convince my father (who never wanted children) to adopt my brother and I.Times change and so do our sense of priorities. As for my mother and father, I do indeed have feelings of thankfulness. I am thankful that they are dead, buried and I no longer have to tolerate abuse, guilt trips, and backstabbing ways or fake “poor old widow woman” routines. Mother’s millionth or so “I am dying” show routine finally became fact and we planted her beside her child molesting husband.
I am also thankful that the cousin who repeatedly raped me for so many years is now in jail. His sentence is a result of his acts of child molestation of his own daughters. I am thankful that like the rest of my family of origin, I never had to see or deal with in anyway.
I find myself surprisingly thankful for my ex-husband for without him, I would never have met Rose and Russell who are now my mother and father in law. By living with my ex across the street from these people, I (after my separation) met their eldest son David who has made such a wonderful difference in my life. For of all the things I am thankful for, he is by far the foremost.
It is because of him I have seen what true, unconditional love is. We have literally been through life and death together and came out stronger because of it. Patient, understanding, loving and accepting, he is the only reason I am still drawing breath today.
I thank my children for giving me a glimpse of what a happy, “normal” childhood can be. My eldest Vicki, for showing me what it means to be twelve and simply put, boy crazy. To see the angst she goes through over who likes her, who doesn’t and who (gasp!) kissed whom. I think back to that age and remember the repeated rapes and various forms of abuse then give thanks that she hasn’t gone through such horrors.
I thank my middle child Catherine for showing me the spunk and sense of humor of a truly gifted child. Headstrong, willful but so loving, hers is not a broken spirit simply living day to day. She is ALIVE!
I give thanks for simply having my son Will and to the daycare people who saved his life two years ago. He is my own tow-headed Dennis the menace who loves to play with his sister’s dolls and wear fingernail polish. An imp that is never still unless he is up to something he shouldn’t be.
I am thankful to have found the strength to forgive, not my abusers but myself. To forgive my weakness and vulnerability that allowed the abuse to occur. Knowing in my head there was nothing I could have done wasn’t enough; I had to see how vulnerable my children were at those ages to know it in my heart. Most of all I am thankful that I have survived.
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