Daughter Dearest 

Mother is God in the eyes of a child. That quote from The movie The Crow stayed with me. What do we consider a perfect mother?

A woman who carries you for 9 months and when you are born she vows to protect and take care of you. She takes pictures or takes the camera out when you take your first steps. She celebrates you on your birthday. She comforts you when you hurt yourself. When you get older she encourages you to be the best version of yourself. She goes to your recitals or sport games. She gives you life lessons and advice when you do something wrong. Prepares you to become an adult when you're a teenager. She always is there to mend your broken heart. And when you are out into the world, her door is always open. You can always count on her. No matter what, she will always love you. When she gets old, you take care of her because she is worth it. The bond between you is special and lives on even when she takes her dying breath. It will hurt like hell, but there will be no regrets. 

I guess that's what I think a perfect mother is. But I only saw that on TV. 

Quebec 1980.

The first memory of my mother goes way back when I was around 3 years old. We lived in a beautiful house in the suburbs with a pool in the back yard. I remember playing outside under the patio and in the front yard. Alone. My mother was in the house. She was a stay at home mom I think, not sure but I know that I would play alone or with a little girl across the street. I don't know if it's because times where different back then but If I would see a small child alone,I would be worried and looking for his or her parents. 

My parents got divorced when I was 4. I didn't want to leave her side do my mother took me with her and my father and brother stayed in the house. 

We got in a taxi and went to live with one of her friends in an apartment and I shared a bedroom with a small baby. I remember one day wanting to go play outside. The buildings door locked automatically so I was stuck outside. I did not know how to get back in. I did not know what appartement it was. I was confused, scared and probably that's when I had my first panic attack. Eventually someone was getting out of the building so I could finally get back in. No one was wondering where I was. 

Eventually my mother got an appartement on top of a Pizza restaurant in the city. That's when I discovered music on my pink record player. All I did was listen to music and sing. I loved to sing. The memories of that time or vivid but I do remember my mother getting all dressed up and going out a lot. Everytime I would hear the click,click click of her high heels I knew I was going to be babysat. 

My father had a new girlfriend and sold the house. 

I'm not sure how everything happened but this is how it was explained to me when I was older. My father got a job opportunity that was in New-Brunswick. My mother went to him and asked him to take me with him. Because she wanted to go work in Ontario. She was making money as a dancer in strip clubs and could not take care of me anymore and I was going to be better off with my dad. So everything happened pretty fast. A long 10 hours car ride to Riverview N.B. A new house with a big garage and a yard with the view of a field and a forest. Houses that looked the same but we're different colors. Kids playing Street hockey or riding their bikes. You could say it was a great place to raise children. Even though I remember feeling sad about leaving my mother, I gained a loving step mom and her daughter's became my sisters. I made friends with ne neighbors children, started kindergarten, then school. Life back then was good. 

While I was with my father my mom lived in Ontario with her girlfriends. For a long time, when I was older she told me she was a barmaid. But I honestly never saw her make a drink. So I always wondered what she did all that time I lived in New Brunswick. Eventually it came out that she danced in a strip clubs, made a bunch of money and traveled in the south. I don't know why it was such a big secret because I would have never judged her. She's my mom and I loved her. 

I would only see her during the summer breaks or for the holidays. My dad would drive that long 10 hours so we can see the family back in Quebec. And it was always great. My mother would spoil me and my brother rotten. New toys, new clothes and new hair. But it went by so fast and we had to go back home and I remember crying and hugging my mother tightly because I was going to miss her for almost a whole year until I saw her again. One day she surprised us by coming to visit for a weekend. We had so much fun. Today I wonder in the 7 years we lived there she came to see us once. I couldn't understand why. 

We eventually moved into a different house closer to my school. And things started to change at home. We were being raised in a strict household. I started to be afraid of my father. If told a lie, I had to keep a bar of soap in my mouth for a while. Once there was no bar so it was liquid soap. That was nasty. If I didn't eat all my dinner I had to stay at the table until my plate was empty. Sometimes I was still there and it was pretty late. There were times I was sent to my room and had to stay there for days. Honestly as long as I had my music and my imagination I was fine but without the TV was hard. Then my father and his partner split up, her daughter's moved back with their father in Ontario but Patrick stayed in my life and still took care of me. I would spend my Sundays with her. We would go to church then go eat a donut at Tim Hortons. 

Things didn't get better at home. There were the spankings, the belt, the slaps. I remember once it was on my birthday. We were watching TV in the basement. I said a bad word without thinking. My father got so mad at me. He grabbed me by my collar and hair. Dragged me up the stairs and put me in the right corner of the kitchen. Told me to get on my knees and stay there. My pants were drenched in urine because I got so scared. 

When stuff like that would happen I would call my mom and begg her to come and get me. But she never did. 

I was always walking on eggshells around my father. I never knew what mood he would be in. At school it wasn't better. I was always getting bullied. I didn't have a lot of friends. I spent alot of time alone in my room. It was my safe space. 

I don't think I was a problem child, yes I would lie to get out of being punished. I know I would fight with my brother allot. I don't really remember what I did wrong but I do remember the punishments. 

My father eventually met someone new. She moved in with her two daughters. 

Things got even worse when my father got sick. Because of his job he ended up getting really depressed and burnt out. He lost his girlfriend, couldn't work anymore and his temper was terrifying. This man who was always so strong and proud suddenly was emotional and crying like a child. I never saw my father cried before. It was unsettling. 

I was in  six grade and things were turning around. No one was making fun of me anymore. I even had my first boyfriend. It lasted maybe a week and all we did was hold hands but still, I was happy. I had friends. I was looking forward to start junior high . But then my father gave us the news we were moving back to Quebec. 

It broke my heart. I was 4-5 years old when we arrived in N.B. Now I was 12. My whole childhood was there. Even if things were sometimes bad at home,we had lots of good times like going to the beach, visiting Prince Edward Island, The Bay of Fundy, Family road trips, Friday pizza and movie nights. And finally things were really good outside the home. I think my brother was also very upset. But what choice did we have?