Dear Mama,

On this coming Mother’s Day I would like to thank you for the gift of life. Over the years we’ve had our ups and downs and recently mostly downs but I have never forgotten what you have done for me. Nor have I ever stopped loving you.

Some of the best gifts from you:

You gave me the best education your money could buy.

You took care of my child when I couldn’t.

You bought me my first car.

You gave me a home when I was broken and rudderless.

On this Mother’s Day I hope you remember the good times I have given you as your child. I also hope you find it in your heart to forgive the things I have done to hurt you as I strive everyday to forgive you.

Our relationship has never been easy. As I get older and I realize the complexities of my relationship with my children I have begun to have an inkling of what your perspective is. While I work hard to ensure that my relationship with my children will never be like ours I cannot shrug off the indelible mark your parenting has left on me.

Sometimes I catch myself wanting to beat my children into submission like you did me. And instead of giving into that urge I go to my bathroom and cry. When I don’t want to listen to them as they ask me questions that are important to them, no matter how irritating while I watch my favorite program TV, I turn the volume down and give them my full attention, remembering how often you would tell me to “shurrup” while you concentrated on spraying bug spray in the garden. Until I stopped asking questions altogether and read books instead. (Actually I should thank you for that because I never would have discovered the joy that is reading nor started to write my own stories.)

When I wanted to visit friends or go out you would always say no; always; until I learned to hide and cheat my way to freedom. While I hated boarding school it gave me a chance to be like a normal kid and also taught me self-sufficiency. When my kids ask to go to a sleepover or go on holiday with friends, I often give them permission because I know how boring it is to say, “I spent the holiday at home with my parents” holiday after holiday. I thank you for giving them the best holidays of their lives even though you refused me holidays with family members.

When you didn’t protect me from my father and the hurt he piled on me, I survived. And now I work to protect my child from hurt by her father; a man who is a replica of my own father in every respect. As the saying goes, the first man a little girl falls in love with is her father. I went one further and found my father’s carbon copy. I would never temper with my child’s love for her father but he knows I am watching him and when the time comes, I will be there to protect her from him.

I want you know that today, I look back into my childhood and find it a mixed blessing. While you beat me with anything you could reach (a wooden spoon, my shoes, a dishcloth and a bottle on occasion) I learnt to master pain and not cry. I learnt to defend myself by making sure you never hit me where it would show, curling into a little ball and hiding my face. Every time I spoke to you again after those beatings, I learnt forgiveness. These lessons have served me well. When you were displeased with a B or a C in my report card I learnt to work harder and strive to be the best. That lesson has served me well.

A childhood and early adulthood spent being a strong overachiever may have culminated in my breakdown and loss of independence due to alcoholism but maybe I needed to go through that fire to come out stronger on the other side. I am now, and it is because I am YOUR daughter that I have.

The depth of my love for you has never been shaken or budged, and now I hope we can both learn to like one another and even perhaps respect each other as adults. I love you mom, happy Mother’s Day.