I would first like to extend a great big hug to all the mommies of the world. To know that the love and affection you give, and forehead kisses bestowed on your children are fantastical and well appreciated.
I was born on the same day as my mommy, or as I call her Momma Polito. So depending on her mood it could be a good or bad thing. lol...I remember my mother telling me when I was a child, that she never had a doll for her parents could not afford one for her, but when I was born I was her doll to play with forever. She dressed me up in frills and lace, with ribbons in my hair and yet many photographs from my childhood show this lady-like image and the tomboy in me with blackened knees. I was a class act.
I remember baking with my mother and putting colorful sprinkles on freshly baked goodies. I remember her being soft spoken and gentle, classy with a pair of black pumps and 80's red lipstick. I remember Saturday mornings, waking up early because it was cleaning day and dancing to music. My mother always treated me and Vicki like we were her best friends and as we have gotten older we can talk to her about anything. My mother NEVER denied me a birthday party with friends and while most kids had it at Mc Donalds, my mother would organize a grand feast in our home, baking Italian treats from the night before. How many kids you know had that?
We all have issues with our mothers to a certain degree. Fix your hair. Why are you wearing that? Remove that studded belt. Smile, that boy is looking at you. The only place you'll find a nice boy is at the library or church. Why are you dying your hair pink and purple? I know the perfect Calabrese boy for you! You drive like a maniac. Why are you so tough? lol...and it goes on and on and on...but even though she would comment she let me live. She supported my decision to attend art school. She is supporting my decision to move to Boston, even though it is killing her inside. She NEVER denied me anything. I also did not involve her much in my personal life. As close as I am with my mother, and trust me when I say that I tell her alot, I do need to keep 5% to myself...lol
Last year when I went into work on that Wednesday and checked myself into the emerge, I had to call my mother to come and be with me. When I called her she knew something was up because for the past 10 years I always went alone for hospital visits. I was in the changing room in the Radiology department and I said, "Mom, they think I have cancer." She fell into my arms, completely in despair. I didn't know what to do. My mother is MY baby, and seeing her like that took a piece of me. I couldn't show her that I was phased. "Mom, no worries, everything is going to be fine!" I was scared. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. All I could imagine at that moment was my mother accepting condolences in her black dress, crying over my coffin. I wasn't ready to let her go. You really tend to think the worst when the LIFE and DEATH buttons are flashing in front of you. Which one will you choose? Which one will choose you?
When I was diagnosed last year, my mother was a full time student at the JKF Business School. She dropped out to take care of me. To come to all my treatments and hospital visits. To sit next to me when I had to inject myself. To wait 4 hrs by herself while I was sedated during chemo. To hold my head when food refused to remain still. To bathe me because I couldn't move and inch. I get upset with her sometimes because I wanted her to stay in school. It made her happy. One day she said, "You should never worry about me because I would take away your cancer if I could." Talk about a tear jerker, right?
Doctors said I might not be able to have children because of the chemo. It's ok, whatever happens, happens. There are many children to adopt. To be honest, though. I always hoped to have a little girl with red hair. I dreamt the other night of this little girl sitting on my lap. She was absolutely stunning with long red hair and hazel eyes. I asked her, "Well gorgeous, now who do you belong to?" She replied, "YOU, silly." I was never into dolls growing up. I had three Barbies and ripped off their heads, but that dream made me want that little doll of my own. I understand what my mother means. I understand her teachings and I see myself in her eyes. I only wish that when that day comes, I will be half of her greatness, because in her strength through it all, demonstrates the unconditonal love a mother has toward her child.
Even though back in the day she would throw a tupperware or two at my head, she has left me in the awe of her presence because Momma Polito rocks my world and she is the very foundation I dance on! I love you momma, even though you are a pimple on my arse...LMAO!!! (She gets it!)
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