vintage

One Pair of Shoes

My most significant memories of childhood center around contributions made by a protective mother and the lack thereof from an absentee dad. My Mother is a head strong island woman. My dad on the other hand is one who, from the time I met him, wondered aimlessly through life for much of his life without any specific positive direction. In retrospect, I believe I owe my determination to survive to my mother and my ability to walk away from situations at the drop of a hat is thanks to my dad. Nevertheless, I remember vividly how Mother would bend over backwards to provide and protect me and my brothers. There were times in my childhood I felt like I would choke from Mother’s protection. She did not give me what I wanted and there were times, we had confrontations about what I thought I was entitled to have. My necessities always prevailed because she always won those battles. I grew up feeling unappreciative for what Mother did for me, at least, until as a single parent I struggled with my own children’s educational, medical and other expenses. From childhood until college age, my accepted norm for family life was having my Mother provide for me and my siblings. To this, there was one exception to the rule, one pair of shoes.