Imagine a teenage girl of 18 taking on 6 needy children and then giving birth to 5 of her own, all by the age of 23 and staying the course. I mean it, think about that! That is Elisabeth (nee Patenaude) Mailloux. When Theresa turned 14 she was 24. She did not have the luxury of being a young, willful, curious rebellious teenager. She was therefore totally unprepared for the girls. When I was 14 she was 29.
It began with Theresa, then Doris and then me. With each one of us there was a battle of the wills. Be it clothes, friends, outings, makeup, or quality and quantity of work, there was very little middle ground to be found. As we looked for our independence and our voice we butted up against hers. There was a lot of arguing, shouting, foiled attempts at disciplineand some running away. I think with Theresa and Doris it might have been easier as they were more practical than I. In some ways more stubborn, but generally more predictable and thus more ready to compromise. I on the other hand was extremely idealistic and argued on ideas like how to raise her children. My arguments were crueler and hit closer to home.
By the time I hit 18 she had had enough of me telling her how to handle Gary and it was time for me to leave. It was a bitter day. I felt utterly unprepared for the world. Looking back, I see it was the only decision she could have made. I was the last of the first 6 to leave the nest. My father did not intervene, but left the burden on her shoulders. With no one to blame for my unhappiness, I came face to face with myself. Of course I still blamed her. Why couldn't she understand my need to talk, to share with her my hopes, fears, dreams. Talking of these lofty ideas was out of the question.
Many years later, when my father was undergoing bypass surgery, and many of us where visiting him in hospital, she spoke of this period. I was the only one who witnessed her confession. She spoke of it in indirect terms saying that she bore the sole responsibility regarding post secondary education. In a tearful state she admitted to being overwhelmed by this momentous responsibility, determining who would get university or college and who would not. It wasn't fair. My father did not participate but left it to her. By now I was aware of how much she had influenced and shaped my life. What she regretted had taught me to be strong and self-reliant. It had taught me that I was no longer a child at 18 but someone old enough to hurt and be hurt, to love and be loved.
Knowing myself now as I do, it would not have been good for me to stay at home another 2 years. I did, more than all my siblings, need to face the world. It would only have been more contest of wills.
I don't want this blog to be sentimental. My ambition is to really relate the strength of character and tenacity demonstrated by my mother. Unfortunately she was often unhappy. I equate much of this unhappiness with that basic decision to marry my dad and take on his 6 kids. She could be judgmental, unfair, unbending, and partial to her own children.
In my next blog I will talk about our adult life.
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