motherly love – Page 2 – Susana Benavidez

Back to School

Bella and Iza — Loving Sisters, Daughters of Mine

I can’t help but feel the tightness in my chest as I see your little faces scrunched up with worry as you start school again. You cling to me and I have no plans to let you go. I want to hold the both of you like this, close to me, with my arms wrapped tightly around those two sets of shoulders that I never want to carry the weight of worries and fear.

At times, I regret my selfish motives in bringing you into this world. Did I do you wrong?

But that is an equally selfish and stupid thought to have. When I look into your little shiny eyes, I can see how much happiness you will bring into this world, many times over what you already bring to me and those that are lucky enough to know you.

You possess kindness, sweet dispositions, tender hearts that ache at other’s suffering, and a joyous ringing giggle that can bring a smile to anyone who hears its music.

I am incredibly happy and blessed to have you as my own, to lay claim to having had some say in how wonderfully you are turning out. No matter what other great things I accomplish in this life, the two of you will always overshadow them with your perfection of sweet little human beings that you are.

I am biased, no doubt, but I could care less about what others may think is an exaggeration; they have not met you. They have not felt the velvet warmth that fills my soul when you hold me tightly as I tuck you into bed. Nor you’re refusal to let go of my neck when I kiss you goodnight. 🙂 That love that carries through when we look at each other, smile at one another, and cuddle up with each other is unparalleled.

Some of my favorite moments are when I am in the car stopped at a red light and I reach back with my right hand and two little sets of hands instantly latch on. You just know to expect it. Or when one of us has a particularly difficult day whether it’s a demanding project for me at work or someone not sharing with you at school; we listen to one another – no matter how frivolous it may be to others, we listen, we know. And we always end it with our salute of Three Musketeers, and if that doesn’t work, we fall into a fit of giggles brought on by silly faces or jokes.

Some day the two of you will know how happy you make me. When you are old enough I will tell you how instrumental you were in my life and how much motivation you provided. I will confess that it’s a lot of work to raise two little ones on my own. It was hard to have you so young after marrying too young. But you two are like little wells of happiness that I can endlessly dip into when I need a smile, when I need a reason to see why every day is a gorgeous day, when I need a reminder of how precious life is.

No matter how tired I may be, no matter how much I want to take a nap after a long day of work and driving around to take care of the mundane needs of life, I can draw strength from your little smiling faces. Those little beaming half-moons that fill me with an inexplicable energy to get everything done to make sure we have a simple but happy life.

I will be here for you always, no matter where you go or what you may or may not do, I will be here to love you unconditionally and to listen when no one else may seem to. Every morning I will think of you and every day you will continue to be my babies, my little treasures, my Bellini and IzaPizza, no matter your age.

Whether it’s the first day of school, you’re first interview, or your first date (God forbid it happens before you’re 22), I will be here holding on tightly and leading the way.

The three of us

When the quiet reaches me, I sit here contemplating if it will always be like this, if it would best be left like this.

After the fogginess of morning, waking up to a new day, rousing from the few hours of fitful sleep, I make my way to clarity with a cup of coffee. I stare off into emptiness as my senses return about me and I get to the business of the new day.

Under the pressure of the shower water my muscles grow taught and my eyes alert and I step out feeling refreshed, renewed even.

The monkeys slowly make their way back to this world from their peaceful sleep and the house is filled with giggles and with equal measure of squeals of delight and complaint. It’s a new day and none better than today.

Breakfast is made; clothing is tossed in the hamper, clean ones thrown on. Pacing back and forth looking for a shoe, a hair tie, the comb, the minutes tick on by until it’s time to rush out the door.

At school, at work, it’s all the same to you and me. Our hours pass on by filled with new memories, work, dreams, and the steady gaze towards the clock as it nears our reunion.

Off to pick you up and as soon as I step in the door my body absorbs the thud of two little monkeys running into me with exclamation of love. How happy I am in these moments of unguarded affection.

At home, we stretch, we clean, and we cook and eat. We work and do homework, we find ourselves unwinding. As you two shower, I get a snack ready for you, a midnight snack you call it, so it can be waiting for your eager shiny eyes when you come back to me. Then the room goes quieter once your bellies have been satisfied, your round cheeks filled with kisses and caresses and you slowly wander back to your sweet dreams.

And I am here, sitting by the window typing away when I should be sleeping, enjoying the cool breeze immensely, and thinking of tomorrow and what it may and should/shouldn’t bring.

It grows quiet outside and inside the words and thoughts push out. They ask and beg to be heard. And I listen. I am blessed. When it is just us three and life around us, I know how blessed I am, how beautiful life can be. The illness of worry and self-doubt only appear when I listen to others.

But at the moment, I sit here and listen. And try to discern my desires, worries, thoughts, and plans; allowing them all to flow freely hoping to see them converge. I know that one day the two of you will walk on to your own path, and there will no longer be just the three of us, and I hope for nothing less. My proudest moment will be when I see you grow to be happy, independent, and beautiful women, inside and out. And that gives me a glimmer of hope that I may hope for the same.

Escape to College

“You have to write an essay about college and what you think you need to get into one.” Mr. Escobar was writing furiously on the board. There were three columns ‘community college’, ‘cal state school’, and ‘UC’s’. “What about private schools Mister?” “What do you know about private schools Lorena?” “Like Harvard and Yale or Georgetown, what if we plan on going to a private school?” “Don’t worry about private schools, you can’t afford them. Focus on high school before you get married.”

I drowned him out and started thinking about what the requirements were to get into each school system. The library at school didn’t have anything about colleges, it didn’t seem to get used either. Instead of walking home I headed over to Malabar library and started pulling out the college prep books. An hour later I ran home with essay in hand.

Shit… As I got closer I could already feel his daggers sinking into my skin. My tio was standing by the gate with a beer in hand, blocking the entrance. Beer cans were all over the front garden and steps. Mi Apa was leaning on the fence with his head back beer to his lips. He gulped it down and before he could squeeze it and throw it aside, my tio handed him another Bud Light.
I hated it when they drank in front of the house. That’s why I never invited anyone over, why couldn’t they drink in the back?

“Hola tio. Hola papi.” “Saluda a tu tio bien, ven para aca.” I walked back and gave my uncle a quick hug, trying to mask my disgust.

“Donde estabas?” “En la biblioteca, tenia que escribir-” “Ve ayudale a tu madre!”

I ran up the stairs and went inside. My mother was in the kitchen heating up the food cursing my uncle for making my father drink, as if he had to be persuaded! She looked up just as I walked by. “Where were you?!” “I went to the library. I had homework.” “Get the table ready and take off your uniform.”

I cleaned the table, took out the salsa and started warming up tortillas. “Go call your father to dinner.”

“Papi, ya esta la cena. Papi, ya esta servido sus platos.” “Huhhh. Hmmm!”

All he could fucking do after so many beers was grunt like a stupid animal.

As they finally pulled themselves away from their beer they sauntered over to the table. I tried to sneak back into my room but my uncle pulled my arm and told me to sit next to him. I hated that fucking smell. He placed his arm around me and asked me about school.

“Para que tienes que ir a la bibliotheca? Aqui tienes todo lo que necesitas para hacer tu tarea.” My dad pointed to his head.
“Pero no tenemos computadora para el internet papi.” “No necesitas internet, cuando yo era nino yo aprendi todo mientras que trabajaba en las cosechas.”

Always going on about he was so smart in school and how he learned everything faster and how he had to do it all while he worked in the farm and missed four months of school during the crop season. He could never say anything good about me, neither one of them. If Mexico was so fucking great, what were we doing here? Why hadn’t he gone beyond the 3rd grade?

“Que Buena esta la comida Maria.” “Gracias Jorge.”

“Esta mierda? Si no vas a cocinar bien, ya te dije que no cocines!”

“Yeah whatever.” My mom got up to clear her dish. “Can’t even talk with your stupid crooked mouth. You look so ugly when you‘re drunk.”

My father got up, grabbed his hot plate and threw it at my mom, beans and hot pieces of meat flying all over my mother’s face.
“Pinche babosa! Callate la boca!”

My father’s eyes were opened wide full of rage. They seemed to change color when he snapped, his bloodshot eyes bulging out and his eye brows two angry lines cut into his face.

I got up and stood between them. I started to clean up and I could see him swaying over me unsure of what to do before he walked to his bedroom and slammed the door so hard that the veneer cracked.

My tio got up and muttered an apology before he scurried off.

My mother started crying uncontrollably about what a miserable asshole he was so I led my younger siblings into their room.

“It’s okay mom. He doesn’t deserve you. You deserve so much better. Just ignore him, he’s drunk.”

“Why does he always have to call me names? I told him so many times to not call me stupid! He’s stupid, he couldn’t live without me. When I leave then who’s stupid!”

“Mami, we CAN leave. We can live in an apartment and we would do all of the cooking and cleaning. You could go back to school and take computer classes and you could get an office job like you wanted. If you got a divorce we would go with you and help you mami. We don’t need the house and we could be happy.”

When she looked at me I knew that I had gone too far. She would never leave him. She would never be able to walk out the door.

“I stay with him for you guys. For my kids, that’s why I stay. So you can have a family and have a better life.”

“Yes mami, I know. I love you. Do you want to sleep in my bed? I can sleep on the sofa.”

I finished cleaning the dishes as she went off to my bed and I felt a huge lump of guilt bobbing up and down on my throat. What if he heard me? I should have known. She would never leave.

Culmination and a new dress??

I was so excited; I would be able to wear a brand new dress for my 5th grade culmination. That’s what they called it a culmination not graduation. It did not matter, I was going to speak since I was being awarded the Vice-Principal’s award and my mom surprised me by saying we were going shopping for a dress.

“We’re leaving in an hour; make sure your room, the bathroom, and kitchen is clean before we leave.” I ran to my room and made sure everything was in place and changed out of my uniform into a pair of white jeans and t-shirt. I washed the dishes and ran around in a whirlwind of excited energy as I imagined what I would get to wear.

Maybe I would find a fancy black dress, simple and fitting so that I looked elegant giving my speech. I could squeeze into my sister’s heels and I would look great! Marla and Kandy would look at me with approval and I would smile slightly as if to show I always dressed that way outside of school…

I heard the engine running and my mom call out, “if you’re not out here in five minutes I’m leaving.” I had to pee but I ignored the urge and dashed out the door and onto the car and we sped away in our white 1984 Jimmy GM. I liked that car, with its red interior, brandishing the same year I was born. My sis and I worked hard to keep it clean both inside and out so that it looked almost new.

We went down Brooklyn Ave (now Cesar Chavez) and stopped at the BofA on Breed St. The line stretched out the door and there was no bathroom in sight. When we finally left and crossed the street to the fashion store I thought I would die and pee my pants. My mother kept passing me ugly dresses to try on that were too big on me but she figured they would last long.

As I was taking off a gray and black jumper that I hated, I felt the painful urge to pee. As my mother kept yelling at me in front of the other customers and the excitement of the new dress long ago dead, I felt a river of urine flow from my legs and over my white jeans and dress. I couldn’t believe it! I stared down in horror as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I managed to whimper what had happened and I could see that the Japanese store owner felt bad that he hadn’t allowed me to use his bathroom. My mother yelled at me and slapped me hard complaining that she would have to buy the dress now and a slew of insults flew out of her mouth as she pushed me out the door and told me that I wouldn’t be allowed to ride home in the car. “Vete caminando! Haber si la verguenza te quita lo pendejo!”

I tried not to cry and wiped away the tears. As I waited for the light to turn green a woman, a Jehovah’s Witness, placed her hand on my arm and asked if I was okay. I was horrified that anyone would notice the yellow stains on my already tattered jeans and I shook my head and ran off as the cars came to a stop. I walked home in the dark and hated myself for being so stupid, so ugly, and worthless. How could I have done such a thing? I was ten years old and I had piss all over my jeans – making me shiver in the cold. I ran past the veteranos on Breed St, turned the corner on Malabar and ignored the catcalls of the fat old men trying to give me a ride. I contemplated not going back home and walking until my legs buckled under me and my heart gave out and my body could finally lie down in peace forever.

As my self-tormenting and wishful thinking came to an end I was back on Forest Ave walking down to the peach stucco house with my father’s figure leaning on the chain link gate. As I walked closer he opened the door and looked at me with sadness in his eyes; I could feel the tears edging on my eyes and the ball of emotion rising in my throat but I looked away and went to shower. By the time I got out everyone had gone to bed and I gingerly took my dress out of the plastic bag and washed it by hand and laid it out to dry. At least some stains come off with a little soap and water.