Almost four years ago I was contacted by a young woman I had only heard about from my oldest son, and how wonderful she was. My oldests father and I were divorced shortly after his birth, and I was delighted to hear that this woman was good to him. However, it only takes time for my ex-husband’s true color to show (6 months on average according to the tally that I have made) and I was hoping this would be different. Then again: wish in one hand and shit in the other as the old saying goes.
Soon enough, my ex-husband moved back to town after this young woman had finally had enough of the endless amounts of porn and video games my used to be partner dished out. That’s how it always happens, some more peaceful than than the others.
About a month later I received a text message from this young woman letting me know that my oldest would be a big brother again in about nine months time. I was elated, because he wanted another sibling (and I wanted the sibling to be a girl as I always joked). I later realized how much courage this took for “the other woman”, as she had been told over and over what a bitch I was; oh, and also that I would leave my kids to go to orgies on a frequent basis. So, she had the schema that I was not a good person or mother, but she still took the risk.
I did not wait to contact the girl via telephone and say my congratulations, but it was bittersweet for her as her voice indicated. She wanted to mother badly, but did not want to be a single mother; who does want to be one? I assured her that I would stick by her, and I am sure that she had her own reservations with all the venom that was spat about me. However, actions speak louder than words.
I cried with her when she endured the psychological abuse that I had become so accustomed to by my son’s father, and felt for her. We (husband, myself, and both boys) went to help her a week after her son (that’s right, another boy) was born to help out. She had been in immense pain, and I drove her to the hospital to be checked out; at one point the doctor was lucky I had a child in my other arm or he would have smacked for not giving him some sort of numbing.
We talked on the phone for hours, and that’s not figurative. We both make the four hour trip to see each other, and sometimes make it the half way distance just to be around each other.
So no, by blood we are not sisters but she is my sister. I finally made the plunge and acquired us both matching bracelets saying “sister moms” (an ongoing joke between us).
I am sorry if this blog entry is short; I am at my mom’s house which has no internet. Please, allow this to be a demonstration that love and kindness will prevail over any bullshit lie, and you may gain a tribal family member.
Remember the picture at the afore front of this post? That is a man who has cared for both of my ex partner’s offspring, and has even forfeited his own birthday money to send money for Vincent. That is a man.
Thanks you as always to Jenn Bovee, whose site just went through a beautiful revamp!
Light up the Darkness,