My Mama, Her mama, Mothers

Everybody has a mama. Mamas are something special, but here are some concerns.

My father, for whatever reasons, was never around when I thought I needed him, so my mom was my mother and father. What a job!

During my early childhood, though it was happy, two things stand out: not enough and fighting. We were six boys, I was the oldest and every Friday night I can remember my mother and her brothers and sisters fighting themselves and my grandma. I never could figure out why, but they always had a reason and fought. Mothers, sisters and brothers fighting.

It was so bad, that one time I tried to help my grandmother. My grandma, mother, sisters and brothers fought until my grandma died and then they continued to fight one another. I knew it was not supposed to be that way and by age five I was adopted into a family that taught me otherwise, but I continued to observe from a distance, thank God.

During the disciplinary process, my mom would beat the crap out of us. It seems there was always somebody beating somebody. At age nineteen, I joined the military, fought for my country and got married. Guess what? When I had a problem guess how I dealt with it? Then one day, I decided enough fighting. Really, it did not stop for me until after I was an adult and decided for myself, I was not going to live my life that way.

Twenty plus years later, I returned home and shared my new lifestyle with my family. All went well until one day, my adopted mother died and out of no where my mother, her sister and some of my brothers came to visit me. They said they came to talk when a big fight started. From that day to this one, I have had very little contact with my mother, her sister and my brothers.

Mothers can fail to teach their children how to work together. Mothers can let disciple get out of control and it starts at a young age.

Gone Green - your inner voice.com

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