Mother’s day just passed and again, I find myself an outsider on this holiday.
Before I explain anything, I need to qualify a few things first.
I was one of those kids who had a broken mother.
I bear no ill will against her, I’m just putting all on my cards on the table at the front of this post.
She had a horrible life.
Growing up fairly affluent, her strong and independent mother ruled her childhood home with an iron fist. Both her parents were successful entrepreneurs at the turn of the 20th century, no small feat during those times. However, you’d be hard pressed to hear my mother or any of her siblings have a kind word to say about the woman who reared them.
My broken mother married a broken man who also came from a home where there was a lot of family dysfunction. He left a brother buried on a hill in Europe in August of 1947 and his entire family was never the same again.