You are my true mom

She is your mother you raised her!

Dearest Susan,

You are not at fault for our childhood. I know I tell you “she is your mother you raised her.” I do not mean you are responsible. I am half joking because you were the first born. None of us could control the evil that came from her. Your love and kindness is what saved me. Your ever so urgent reply to her anger spared us, your little siblings so much pain.

Thank you. Thank you for everything you have done. Thank you for countless beatings you took on my behalf and on the behalf of our brothers. Thank you for taking Scotty form her at the age of sixteen. Thank you for taking Ike at 18 and giving him hope. Thank you for so much.

I remember when she would be coming screaming yelling for us. It might be every day for a week; it might be once a month We didn’t know she was crazy. We were her children, she our mother. We loved her. I remember loving her. I remember crying because she couldn’t love me or you, or Ike, Rob, or Scotty. I remember such pain that has not been felt since. I remember you hugging me. Loving me. Protecting us all. I remember you sneaking us food. I remember you lying and saying you did something, that you didn’t. I remember you not always being there, because you were older and had other things going.

I remember you leaving and instead of sadness I was so happy to see you free. I know you worried, but you should not have. We kept each other as safe as we could. I could list so many awful things that happened in our lives. I remember one time where I got to follow your lead and save the others.

I was 10. You were gone at a friend’s or with grandma. I was hungry. I grabbed a slice of cheese. I unwrapped it. I started to eat it. I saw a mouse run across my foot. Felt it as well. I get nauseous. Frightened. I drop my cheese. I threw it in the trash.

The story should be over right there, but it isn't.

Fast forward a couple of hours later. Mom screams for me and the others that were home. She sounded like a Demonic spirit from a movie. I run as fast as I can to the impending doom I felt inside. She is standing beside the trash can. She asks us terrified children who threw away the cheese. She was holding it. It was filthy. Covered in ashes because she just emptied her ash tray.

I knew if I didn't confess the other kids would get beat.

I told her I did it.

She sent the others away.

I was relieved that she wouldn't hurt them or humiliate me in front of them.

She grabbed me by my chin a s threw me into the refrigerator (ours was covered in dents from our heads, think I left another one this time). She squeezed my cheeks until my teeth popped open. Giving me, I am sure the most ridiculous fish lips. She yelled about everything and nothing. I don't remember her words until she said, "you will eat this cheese you ungrateful brat".

I did eat that dirty, ash covered cheese. I made myself not puke and not gag because that could equal a beating. So far that was not happening.

It didn’t happen. Only the nasty cheese is remembered.

I can't eat sliced wrapped cheese.

I know I have told you that story, because you have questioned my disgust of American cheese. I think here I give all the details. I want you to know I could not have stood up and admitted the truth if I had not see you stand up over and over again, even to lie, to protect us. You made me the kind person I am today, despite her awfulness. You inspire me to protect others, to help whenever I can.

I want you to know you are my Mother. Not her, never her, not the birth giver, she is not my mom. But you my sweet sister are my mother. You are the one that loved me, that cared for me when I was sick, the one that taught me about my body, my hair, and my period. You are the one that taught me about boys. You shared your experiences. You taught me about life. You picked me up. You held me. Mostly you loved me unconditionally. You are the strongest woman I know.

I know this letter is everywhere. I know my brain is all over the place. I know I love you. I know I need you. I know I appreciate you with all the fiber in my being. I know I call you almost daily to talk about everything and nothing. I know I love you and you love me. I know you are my mom.

Thank you,

Emmy