A Letter to My Single Mom
Recently, I was talking to a friend who is a single mom and I was flooded with feelings of both admiration and sympathy. Neither of which she asked for, but the feelings were inevitable. Hearing all she’s dealing with on her own, I thought of my own mom. She and my dad split up the summer before kindergarten. Even though he’d make a random appearance here and there over the years, it was never consistent. It was always just me and Mom. She thankfully had a lot of support from my grandparents and other family members, but only now that I’m a mom too, does the weight of all that she dealt with become a reality.
I truly believe single moms are saints on earth.
I’m married and have a very supportive and involved husband. I know how lucky I am, but I still struggle with the parenting thing (..don’t we all?). So I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it was for her to do it by herself. My friend’s number one concern was her kids and how they’ll grow up with one parent. She wonders if she’s doing enough, filling the void of the absent parent, and hiding her stress from the kids. The truth is, single moms do more than enough. They already choose to put themselves last and the kids first. They choose to do what’s best for the children and put on a happy face when they might be falling apart.
If you are a single mom wondering if you’re doing it right, I want to share with you this letter to my own mom ::
Momma,
I always knew I was lucky to have the mom I did. I don’t ever remember seeing you cry, but I bet you did. I bet you hid in the bathroom or closed your bedroom door and muffled the sounds so I wouldn’t worry. I bet you were up at night wondering if you made the right choice about something or if you were giving me what I needed. I want you to know, you didn’t have to worry. You gave me everything I needed and so much more. You taught me not to rely on anyone. You taught me how to be a strong person and to be proud of myself, because I work hard. I worked hard because I saw you work hard, and I wanted to make you proud. I still love the feeling I get when you tell me you’re proud of me. You tell me all the time, because since the beginning, you were my biggest cheerleader. That hasn’t changed as I’ve grown.
I never felt a void or that I was missing out on something by not having a dad. I always felt that I was the luckiest kid in the world. Yes, we had our disagreements (some would say we argued like sisters), but I know I got to see and do and have what a lot of kids didn’t. Every summer, you made sure we went somewhere new. As an adult now, I see how difficult that might’ve been. You had to make sure we could afford to go on vacation, all by yourself. You had to plan and pack for both of us, all by yourself. Then take the trip with me, all by yourself. Side note: I took my own kids to Disney with my entire extended family and husband and … WOW. You were crazy for that one! But you always made it happen. I always look back on my childhood and remember those things, those places, and those experiences. I’ve carried that on to my own children, and I hope they appreciate it as much as I do. No matter what you were going through, you put me first and made things happen for me.
I found a quote that said, “Motherhood is a choice to do the right thing, even when you’re not sure what the right thing is.” I have the luxury of being able to have a sounding board in my husband. We can talk together about choices regarding our children, especially major things. But even the smallest things, like what’s for dinner. You did that all on your own. You have to be one of the strongest people I know, and I am so lucky to have you as my role model for what a mom should be. If I can be even half the parent you are, I have succeeded in life.
Love, Kassie
So, single moms … hear me out. If you ever feel you’re not enough for your kids, or you’re not making the right decisions, I ask that you read my letter to my mom. Even in the thick of things – the teenage years – you might feel like you’re doing it all wrong. But I promise you, those babies (they’ll always be our babies) see you. They notice your sacrifices. They notice your choice to put them first.
