Ma

Ma was married and pregnant with her first child at the age of 18.  Ten months after the birth of a daughter the second girl came squalling out.  The next year brought a boy, the year after another boy, then a girl, a boy, a girl.

A three year gap marked the coming of the fifth daughter who at the age of 9 was competent and comfortable with her station until I interrupted just before Valentine’s in the year 1975.  Ma was 39.

It seems she never really had a chance to come into her own, not by the way I see it.  Despite the legal definition of it, 18 is still a kid to me.  At least, I was still a kid at 18.  Someone once said, “Who you marry at 20 is not who you’d marry at 30,” or some such.  Seems about right to me, having nearly gone there too young myself.

But Ma, she was married and too far gone with babies to make any reverse decision on the matter by that time.  As far as I can tell she still measures a woman’s success not by degree or profession but by marriage and childbearing.  She’s old fashioned that way.

I think I’m more generous to Ma than many of my siblings who complain and grouse about matters of upbringing that are so long passed in the scheme of things it seems absurd to even bring it up, though how I’m much better with my writing every thought down I don’t know.

Ma has her own ways, ways that can drive her kids mad what with her seeming disinterest in all things political, her nose for gossip and the effects aging is having on her capacity for social interactions.

My theory on the matter is that a she started her mothering early, before she was really ready to be her own person, before she had a chance to have her own interests.  I think that the only thing she ever really had to experience outside of childhood and adolescence is us, a lot of us, and her husband.  It could cause a person to go a little loopy, I would imagine.

Besides the awe her sheer fecundity has inspired over the years, it’s the fact that she has never driven a vehicle that really trips people up.  I don’t even know if she has ever ridden a bike, though it seems unlikely anyone with fully functioning physical abilities could get through 73 years of life without peddling a bicycle at least once, I suppose we shouldn’t stifle our imaginations.

I find it difficult to explain Ma because as simple and mundane a person may seem, the layers always peel back revealing a deepest sense of regret, hope and desire.

A thing I can never get myself to recognize, to believe in, is the darkness she enveloped with the falling of my dad.  I mean, I was a kid and kids don’t really know what’s going on.  As far as I was concerned, dark rooms and sad country music were the way of the grown-up world.  Don’t get me wrong, there was a lot I did understand, though being a kid I was just as underestimated as any other and learned to adapt.

What I’m saying though is that there are a lot of women out there with no-good, rotten, very bad cheating husbands who are willing to put up with an awful lot.  My ma though, she didn’t.

This woman who was taken fresh from the farm straight to the wedding bed, who gave her entire existence over to her family, who never really got a fair shot at knowing herself did something that would scare the bejesus out of me.  She stood up after 9 kids and twenty-something odd years of marriage and said, “Enough is enough.” 

Can you imagine?

Advertisements

About E. Victoria Flynn

E. Victoria Flynn is a mother and a writer living in Southern Wisconsin. Published in a variety of venues, Victoria is currently writing the first in a series of three fantasy novels based on Cornish folklore. When not taking part in a shrieking dance party or engrossed in her own little fictions, Victoria is keen on art, the natural world and people unafraid to explore their own brilliance.
This entry was posted in divorce, kids and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Ma

  1. 2KoP says:

    Hi, EVF. I come to you from SheWrites based on the review by the curator of the week. I think you are a wonderful writer and I particularly liked this piece because it reminded me of my grandmother. She had only two children and lost two husbands before she died at 86, but she started early, had her youngest child at 20 and never learned to drive. My mother and her sister also called their mother "Ma". So interesting. Thanks for sharing and keep up the good work. If you ever get a chance, stop by Two Kinds of People and say hi.Best,Susan

  2. Jeannette says:

    I really like the narrative voice in this piece; you've achieved a narrative closeness without robbing the focus on the subject of the story. Here's to more writing in 2010.

  3. evf says:

    Thank you both so much for stopping by and sharing your comments. Susan, I will absolutely stop by your blog and say Hi. I find it interesting to see the comparisons between the lives and choices of women before and after the active movements of the '70s. Jeannette, I appreciate this very much. I am working on tailoring this voice to fit with the rest of my memoir writing. I find it much more enjoyable and engaging.

  4. Hi, EVF! I am visiting from She Writes…You are a wonderful, descriptive writer! I follow you on Twitter so thought I would check out your blog and am so glad I did. Your points on your mother are so observant and yet, you give her so much grace. I agree with you – the poor thing started her family as a child. Kudos to her for standing up for a life she was not going to live anymore. I say impressive and admirable!

  5. evf says:

    Thank you so much for visiting, Natalie. To think this felt like such a hard week with 2 sick little ones, but there have been such kind words here. I am so grateful.This does make me wonder what kind of credence our children will give us one day.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s