Oh my god this is so true.

I recently heard “Another Day in Paradise” by Phil Collins, which I hadn’t heard since the 80s when I was a kid. It immediately brought back memories of being at home and Mom playing that song a lot, with just the two of us in the house, after Dad left.

Looking back at those memories through my adult eyes (I have a nearly-photographic memory and can vividly remember even ancient memories as if I’m still there), I can see my mom’s sadness and loneliness.

And then I realize she was my age. She had a little five year old boy. She was alone, unsure what to do. Putting on a smiling face not just for me but for herself too, cleaning the house with that song blasting. Like, I can watch the memories like video and I can see the heartache I couldn’t see back then.

I just want to go back in time, wrap my arms around her, and hold her tight.

My mother has complained for years how her adopted parents didn’t do a good job raising her. At the time they had three kids of their own and then adopted my mother and her sibling who are their nieces. One day I did the math and pointed out to my mother that her adopted parents were only 25 when they took on 5 kids and did she think their age had something to do with it? It blew her mind and gave her a whole new perspective … for a few minutes. Then she jumped back on the whinge wagon. Sometimes what we want to see is more important than objective observations.