When I was eight, nine years old ( probably other years, too, but this is the period I remember this from), my mother would send me to the store to pick up a case of beer. She never found out a case was 10 cents less than the change I brought back. I would drag a case of 12 bottles of beer to the counter and add a Crispy Crunch. About halfway home, I would set the case of beer down on the sidewalk, sit on it and eat my chocolate bar.
Here’s To the un-mothered who create pockets of joy in the midst of dark chaos.We are the ones I honour on Mother’s Day. Heroes all!
The un-mothered

Hear hear! Well said. Thanks for addressing those less than perfect Mom situations. Yes there were good moments.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Life seems to always be what we ourselves make it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
As my sister Christine Ramsey said on you FB page, we didn’t realise how kucky we were growing up in a loving home. Congratulations to you on how far you have come. I wonder if your mother was happy. I guess not.
LikeLike
She was a very tormented woman whose drinking fueled her rage.
LikeLike
Awe. I love this. 💙💜
LikeLike
I had to come back to say this really touched me deeply. Whenever that little part of me feels alone, I’ll remember that little girl sitting on the case of beer. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
smiling here.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love that spunky little one❤
LikeLike