My mother and my aunt have a bond that my sister and I mimic. It is deep; it is strong, and it is something that is so beautiful that it allows me to give the kinship admiration. Their bond, at least to me, deepened when they both became single mothers at the same time. My mother, having two kids and my aunt, having one kid, were running the show all by themselves. For different reasons each of these beautiful women was given the responsibility to be the fun, caring, stern and loving parent all wrapped in one. The result: these women created and nurtured the most beautiful and tenacious girls that have goals to achieve.
For me, each interaction with each of them is different. My mother, being my actual mother, is my rock, she is the reason I continue to work hard and push through. I find myself being trying to protect her at all cost because I do not know how else to repay her for her generosity and we just started to get along when I was 15 years old. My compassion for my mother comes from both fear and deep respect because she is all I have. When I am sad, she is the first person I talk to; when I am happy, she is the person I call screaming at the top of my lungs; when I have trouble with potential suitors, I talk to her and crave her advice because I trust her word over anyone else’s.
My aunt is my believer. She is the one that pushes me to be the best I can be and reassures me that my talent is waiting to be appreciated. It is the little things she does that tallies up to the big picture. My aunt gets my admiration because of her rightfully impulsive manner and her artistic abilities. I can spend hours talking about individual projects I want to do in the near future, while she gives me things to incorporate or another factor to think about. My aunt and I have the same personalities meaning that I am the bud while she is the blossoming flower. Our personalities become interchangeable when it comes to going with our gut feeling.
As I got older and I needed to decided what traits did I want to explore, I looked to my aunt and mother and knew they hosted the strength I wanted to get to know. Their strength was apparent, but for me, I started appreciating their strength a little more with instances that I witnessed.
For my mother, it was when my father died in 2004 and her need to assume both roles for both kids. My mother became a single parent the day she lost the love of her life. The next year, my mother’s stress heightened when we lost our home to Hurricane Katrina. Our shelter was gone, and all of her memorabilia of my father was gone, yet, in all this, not once did I see her show any fear. Of course, my mother cried, but she did not let that stop her from getting done what needed to be done. No matter what difficulty or challenges that we faced, my mother always had a brave face and a calm demeanor.
Once my aunt’s daughter established her mark in the world, I stopped seeing my aunt as just a mother. By that I mean, instead of just seeing her in mom mode, I was now seeing how she operated as an adult. Being a niece, the only thing I saw was an aunt be a mom and for some reason, that was so weird to me. Hearing my cousin call this woman mom was a shock to my existence because it was like I watching a movie that didn’t belong to me. When we lived in other cities, our visits were for a few days and our phone calls were infrequent. Back then, my aunt was the cool woman who gave me the best presents; now, my aunts persona in my head transformed into someone I am glad to classify as a second mother.
My second mother was diagnosed with cancer four years ago, and I feel like that is when her strength popped out to me. I was not there when she was taking care of my cousin by herself; I was not there when she was working multiple jobs she hated. I was there for when she saw her child graduate from high school and publish her first book, I was there when she bought her first house, and I was there when she was finally working for a company that she loves. In saying that, seeing her go to chemotherapy sessions, numerous doctor appointments with numerous doctors allows me to love her trait of strength inside her.
What I love the most about these beautiful women is the bond they have as sisters. I feel that their relationship has deepened because their circumstances mirrored in similar ways. They were now operating on similar terms and because of that they were able to help each other with whatever tasks proves to be too much to handle for one person. Being a single mother is not the only reason these women are powerful, they are powerful because it is who they are, and being a single mom just adds to that.
