Yesterday, Sunday, I had planned on blogging about the pros and cons of the legalization of marijuana. I work with young adults so I am particularly interested in that issue. However, after watching Charles Osgood's Sunday Morning Program I decided to save the drug issue for another blog.
Ben Stein, has been around for a long time. He is an actor, Speech Writer, Author, TV Personality and much more. He commented, on Sunday, about how ungrateful most of us are when it comes to our parents. He talked about two young women he interviewed that were in a recovery program because of drugs. They mentioned that their biggest regret was all the heartache they put their parents through. Mr. Stein then went on to address his own ingratitude to his parents. He suggested that we all send a thank you note to our parents. So here goes.
My own parents are long gone from this world, and I know I never gave them the thanks they were due. I took all they gave for granted. The word "entitled" was not in vogue then. Never thought about their struggles, sacrifices, or fears. My eyes were on my own navel. I was the center of the world. I never wanted for anything. I had it all. A house in the city and a summer home. As they say "Three hots and a cot." Plus all the encouragement and support I needed. What I did not have was my mother's full attention. My brother had Muscular Dystrophy and needed a great deal of her time and attention. I became very independent at a very early age.
My brother died a day after his eighteenth birthday. I was eight years old. Life changed considerably for me. My dad had always been my knight in shinning armor and showered me with attention but now my mother was doing things for me that I had been doing for myself. One incident sticks out in my head and heart. While giving me a sponge bath I dropped a hand mirror and it broke into a zillion pieces. My mom's reaction was looking me straight in my eyes and said, "Why did God take the wrong one?" As an eight year old I was not sure what that meant but instinctively knew it was not a good thing. As I already mentioned my dad was my saving grace and I believe I chose him to come through to this life but it was my mom who taught me all the hard lessons I needed to learn in order to survive my own life. It took my mom a very long time to come to terms with my brother's death. She tried to numb her pain with alcohol. Back in the day one would never think about going to a "shrink." Only crazy people went to them.
About now you are probably thinking why would she ever want to send her mother a thank you note!
I grew up thinking if your mom can't love you who can? Well, I found a wonderful man who truly loves me just the way I am. To this day he understands and loves me. When my fourth child, a daughter, was born I realized how much love my mom had to give. She was the best Nana a child could have. She doted on her grandsons but her granddaughter was in a category all by herself. I felt she gave Shannon the love and attention she was not capable of giving me. Thank you, Mom, for loving my daughter so much. Watching her love for Shannon somehow exonerated me for not being the one who died.
THANK YOU, MOM AND DAD. FOR THE GIFT OF LIFE AND ALL THE SACRIFICES, LOVE, AND SUPPORT YOU GAVE TO ME.
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