That’s My Momma!

Much has been written of the plight and struggles of single mothers. There are some who look with condemnation at the existence of mothers who are raising children without the benefit of a marriage partner. Often, these same people will use these single mothers as poster board material for what is wrong with the American family. Others take a less condescending view of single motherhood. These people express more sympathy than outrage at these women who have to play the dual role of mommy and daddy.

As I look around at my friends and associates, I understand that I am part of an increasingly rare group. My 5 siblings and I grew up in a two-parent household. Raising 6 children who each had their own personality traits and quirks is no easy feat. Of the six children, 5 of them were born in successive years, so that amounted to a lot of diapers, vaccination shots, running noses and discipline challenges that occurred at the same time. My youngest brother, who was born 4 years after child number five was born deaf, so my parents had the added challenge of raising a “special needs” child. In the midst of hand me downs, tattle-tales, crowded bedrooms, competition for access to the only bathroom in the house and daily races to see who will get the last biscuit, my siblings and I had what I would say was a relatively normal childhood. The rarity of our experiences had to do with one simple, but powerful fact. My father came home every night and there was never a period of time when our mother or her children had to wonder where daddy was. We never had to explain why he was staying with someone else on the other side of town nor did we have to make up lies to explain his extended absences. Unfortunately, that is a picture of the American family that is quickly fading from our view of what is normal.

Long after all six children were grown and living elsewhere, my father passed away. It never dawned on me until recently that by definition; my mother became a single mother when my father died. I suppose that I like many of you traditionally view a single mother as someone who is actively raising young children. I also must admit that I tended to define my mother as just that, a mother. Not a woman with sexual desires and needs. Not a person who felt lonely at times. Not a woman who had dreams that were deferred and even denied for the sake of her family. No, she’s just momma.

But even though all of her children are grown (and like the old folks used to say) “smelling ourselves”, mom still had to negotiate the different and sometimes competing personalities of her children, the extended periods of no phone calls while sometimes withstanding the onslaughts of blame that supposedly grown children hurl at the mom for the “sins” of the father, the man she was married to. She still worried about us as much if not more as when we called ourselves sneaking in at night after curfew. She still defended us against the harsh judgments of the world or even from fellow siblings and extended family. And to my mom’s credit, she has been the most ardent defender of my dad who was human and who like all of us, had his faults. Yes, dad should get credit for coming home every night, but mom gets credit for being home every day.

To my recent shock, I realized that my mom is a single mother. Although she is not wiping snotty noses and driving the kids to football practice and dance recitals, she is still fulfilling the role of mom. So if you take the time to read some of my other posts where I praise the strength of singles mothers, keep in mind one of the people I am referring to is my momma! Let’s pay our respects to our single mothers out there whether they are prospective dating partners, our next door neighbors or the co-worker who often has to leave work to care for a sick child.

Thank God for the commitment and love of single mothers.