I don’t want you to think that I didn’t love my mother, I did and always will.
Without her I wouldn’t be who I am today. She was a very creative person. She could walk into a fancy store make a sketch of a dress, blouse or pants then come home and make it better. She took all my dolls one year and made them new dresses for Christmas. I thought I had all new dolls lol. One of my earliest memories is sitting under her sewing machine playing with my dolls and her fabric and feeling so safe. She made sure no matter what happened between her and my father that my brother and I had what we needed to thrive, not just survive.
I have so many happy memories of my childhood and being with her and my family. But there was a generation gape between us that made my teen years hard for both of us. I wasn’t an easy child to deal with either. I have always known I was adopted, and I used it as a weapon when my Mom hurt me. Which I knew hurt her also. I was a very busy little girl growing up. From age 5 I was swimming in competition, being on teams and practicing every day after school. I was also in brownies and girl scouts. I took ballet in the winter when we didn’t swim. I loved to dance and wanted to be a ballerina when I grew up for a while.
My Mom made this dress and a lot of my clothes growing up. When I wasn’t wearing my school uniform. It became part of the problem when I got older. But that’s for another day. I loved my school, my friends and swimming every day. I wasn’t the best student, especially in writing and math. I broke my right elbow when I was in first grade and was learning to write so they taught me left-handed while the cast was on for months. I almost had to have surgery to fix it. But the nuns decided that once the cast came off, I had to learn to write all over again right-handed. So, I was way behind everyone else. But by 5th grade I could write okay, but I sucked in math. But grades didn’t really matter for me as I was learning to run a household at home and cook, etc. Also, I could swim very well so I was busy with that. So with all that I was a happy child until 8th grade.
Enough for now, I need to think about how to write about my 8th grade year.
Tell your family you love them daily.
Huggs,
Cleary (CieAngel)
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