Personal Childhood Web

At the center of my childhood web is my mother “ma maman.” My feelings for maman were so strong; I can now say that I was in love with her and felt an excruciating pain when I was away from home, from her. Finally, at the age of fourteen, I overcame this feeling as if I had symbolically and secretly celebrated a Bat mitzvah propelling me into the adult world. Of her three daughters, she could see herself in me because I had her features and looked Spanish. Perhaps, as my second sister observed, the third child was still not a boy and carried exotic traits that were not well accepted then. Perhaps, times were confusing with my father and my mother’s feelings were passed on to me. My mother started to put on weight after my birth and I was and continued to be a “plump” baby and child.  Somehow, through this childhood snippet I am trying to explain the deep relationship with my mother. Identity is a very complex thing! My mother is the positive pole in my life; she encouraged my endeavors, sometimes against my father’s wish, because she understood my need to grow into a happy and fulfilled young woman. In other words, she gave me the understanding of what is unconditional love.  I was nineteen when she died and she had been sick for five years. It took me a long time to “recover” and to allow myself to be a mother, a spouse and a woman. My mother taught me that here is no such thing as too much love. This helped me raise my daughter. Even though she never knew her grandmother, the stories she heard about her have made her grandmother an intrinsic part of her life. I am sure the pain I felt impacted my daughter when she was a child.

I remember looking up to my father, loving my father, trusting my father, but I did not really know him. On her death bed, my mother asked me to take care of my dad. I am sure she meant while she was sick but it became a mission I set forth on. On one of her last days, half conscious, she remembered the day when my father returned from Austria after WWII; for the first time I understood the deep love that was binding my parents. This event that I was the only witness to, helped me remain at my father’s side when things got rough for him. In those years, a wonderful man fully unfolded and I could explain why without knowing my father, I had these feelings when I was a child. My father taught me to take what people say with a grain of salt, to be cautious with whom you share your trust, and that leading a simple life being true to oneself brought a lot of happiness. In later years, my father proved his unconditional love for his daughters, never taking sides, and showing great tolerance. This helped me raise my daughter. Her grandfather is a pillar in her life. In honor of him, she had a tattoo reproduced that my father had tattooed on him during WWII honoring my mother. 

My oldest sister played several roles in my childhood. After babysitting a few years, my mother started to work outside the home. She also worked on Saturday mornings when I had school. My sister stepped in as my surrogate mother, helping me when I was seven or eight to get ready for school, making sure my scarf was protecting my ears and that only eyes, nose and mouth were allowed to show in the winter mornings. Later on, I loved it when she took me on outings with her friends because they made a point to make me feel special, a feeling that I was craving for. As well, my sister knew my parents would be more inclined to say yes to her if she took her baby sister with her; but what I received in return was more important than the possibility of having been used.  From these memories, my sister and I have developed a very solid relationship, fully accepting of one another, where no questions are asked, respecting the woman we have become and are becoming. Of course, we are very different from each other, and the link between us has been tested many times and has made our bond stronger. 

My middle sister has a difficult position when a princess was born five years before and a competitor three years after. Just a little older than me, we shared play time; the only downside was that she had the upper hand. She was the merchant when I was the customer, the school teacher when and I the pupil, and her husband had a high ranking job when mine was a garbage collector.  This describes our relationship as I recall and as she also recalls and makes amends to. The best time I had with her as a child was during adolescence where, at the dawn of womanhood, some kind of collusion bound us, of secret understanding that, to this day, is alive. In retrospect, she taught me the real world, the healthy world of growing up with parents and sisters with whom it is okay and necessary to disagree. I looked up to my middle sister and wanted to attend the same schools. Although seemingly having the upper hand, she looked up to me too, encouraged my undertakings, and helped me more than once especially when I had my first boyfriend that secretly she wanted to have but did not allow herself to show. It took me a long time to understand that she speaks her mind with assurance but she can quickly change her mind. This quality took me aback many times because I stand on the opposite side of the spectrum. Above all, my middle sister speaks the truth in the moment and she is my connection to the world.

Another important person in my childhood is my aunt Lily, my mother’s older sister. As children, there were things we were not aware of. Her husband, whom we thought was very mean at times, had undergone some horrific treatment during the Second World War. Lily stood by her husband’s side throughout her life without ever complaining that she was childless. We were her children! Every Christmas, we were so excited because we knew that beautiful gifts were awaiting us there. Lily always showed great love to the three of us and we intuitively knew that she loved us like a mother.   She is the only one in the family who supported me the best she could. Aunt Lily was my daughter’s grandmother and for four years gave my daughter unconditional love. She is part of many conversations where we reminisce the past and when we need support to deal with the present. We miss her very much!