I still vividly recall that Pan Am flight from Miami to our new life in England, soaring high above the clouds of the mid-Atlantic. My mother, dressed in her usual Wrangler blue jeans and a breezy blouse, and me, clad entirely in purple corduroy, were embarking on an adventure. At just 9 years old, I was blissfully unaware of the monumental shift that awaited us. My mom, only 34—younger than I am now—wore purple beads that reflected her free-spirited nature, a testament to her generation’s ethos. She was my steadfast anchor, guiding us into this new chapter.
We were leaving behind Florida, where my mother had found love with a charming Brit, and stepping into the unknown. My Peaches ‘n Cream Barbie doll sat awkwardly on the tray table, her dress the color of the icy landscape outside the window over Greenland. As a true Floridian, I had never seen snow before. This peculiar flight—Barbie, the tundra, and my adventurous mom—marked the beginning of our escape.
I didn’t fully grasp what we were fleeing from or that we were embarking on a fresh start. Little did I know, my mother had faced unimaginable hardships, including the sudden death of my father when I was just 2 and a half. Yet, she exemplified resilience, optimism, and stability—qualities that seemed innate to her. It was a gift, a skill she had honed over time.
At that age, I was too young to understand the spiritual and ethereal connections my mother embraced, which were a response to her traditional upbringing. She took a chance, leaving her support system in Florida to “try out” life in England with a man she had only known for a summer. Her bravery was palpable; after all, what did she have to lose?
What I intuitively grasped, even at such a young age, was my mother’s relentless pursuit of joy—something that would occasionally elude her but always remained a goal. Her determination to carry on, even amidst significant loss, and her ability to give love generously have left an indelible mark on my psyche. I recognize these traits now, especially as I navigate my own challenges, particularly through a divorce I never wanted after only being married for seven months.
The joy I once felt in my marriage quickly faded when my husband announced he was leaving. I was devastated, and as always, my mother was there, offering her wisdom and support. In this dark time, I’ve discovered a resilience within myself that I never knew existed. I’m starting anew, something I never imagined I would have to do as a newlywed.
The transition from marriage to divorce is a daunting one, filled with feelings of loss and confusion. However, I hold onto the belief that joy will find its way back to me, similar to how my mother’s life exemplifies that we can experience multiple lives within our single existence. Joy often arrives unexpectedly.
I’ve come to understand that the skills for navigating grief were instilled in me during my childhood. I was a keen observer of my mother’s journey as a driven single parent, who ventured into teaching, nursing, and paralegal work, all while juggling various life changes. I remember her evolving fashion choices, from flowing skirts to power suits, always trying something new. She faced many challenges but never stopped trying.
Raising me alone was undoubtedly challenging for her. The life she envisioned as a happily married young mother shattered when my father passed away, thrusting her into single motherhood overnight. I witnessed her cultivate an incredible support network of family, friends, and coworkers, who were always there to lend a hand. I learned then that we are never truly alone; it’s simply a matter of reaching out for help. Lately, that’s something I’ve been doing a lot.
My mother’s influence in my life has always been significant, but her role during this tough period is especially poignant. Having endured the loss of one husband and the divorce from another, she understands grief intimately. Now, as a seasoned therapist, she has found her passion. Despite her past, she remains friends with my stepfather, and both have found love again. Recently, she decided to change her name from Joyce—a name she deemed old-fashioned—to Joy, and indeed, she embodies that spirit. While I’m not as joyful at the moment, I recognize the strength within me, which mirrors what I learned from her.
Like that flight when I was 9 years old, my life feels like it’s up in the air again. I’m on a journey toward uncharted territory, with my mother steadfastly by my side, providing unwavering support. One day, I hope to embody the resilience, passion, and courage she modeled for me, as I share these values with my future child. It would be amazing to become the wise matriarch of my own family and share with them just how incredible Grandma Joy truly is.
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In summary, my mother’s journey has taught me the true meaning of strength and resilience. As I navigate my own challenges, I carry her lessons with me, hopeful for a future filled with joy and love.