Another helping of "Help"
So last night I'm up for hours and hours reading more of The Help. I just can't put it down. It's 11 pm it's way past my bedtime but I want to keep reading and finish this book it's so good. Every bend on the road leads me somewhere unexpected. But I definitely wasn't expecting the reaction I had to a particular page of the book...It hurts so much just to think about it but here goes...
There's a part in the book where Skeeter's mom is telling her about an old nanny they had called Constantine who basically raised Skeeter but unexpectedly left 2 years before and Skeeter doesn't know what happened to her. As the mom reveals all the details of what happens to her she says to her daughter: "They say its like true love, good help. You only get one in a lifetime". And all of a sudden I find myself sobbing, sobbing uncontrollably, like I couldn't stop the tears from coming, never in a million years could I stop crying. I have to put the book down (or the Kindle anyway!) I'm so upset (I'm trying to find the quote today on the Kindle and I was so upset I didn't even mark the damn page where the quote was!). I'm almost afraid Gabi's going to wake up. I start racking my brain -- where is this coming from? Why is this book producing this reaction in me? And I sit there sobbing for another 5 minutes and all of a sudden it hits me...
As some of you may know, I am a child of divorce. On top of this, my mom was a flight attendant (for many many years) which means she was gone 4 days out of the week on most weeks and had two daughters to take care of (with no husband). So she did the best she could and she got us nannies, nanny after nanny paraded into my house. Black ones, white ones, fat ones, skinny ones, educated ones, non-educated ones, you name it. There were so many I can't remember the names. ALL I know is they weren't the help, they were my family, and I was theirs (or at least I thought I was). I have memories of riding in the backs of rickety old vans going to their homes (if you could call them that), hanging out with their kids in their neighborhoods, poor neighborhoods right next to our "well off" neighborhood. I didn't think anything of it. Granted, we weren't "well off" by any stretch of the imagination, so maybe I had more in common with them than I had with the people I went to school with every day, but because of my mom's work/life situation we forced ourselves into that group of "elite" who have help. Ironic isn't it, poor people who have help!
In any case, like I said, these women were my "mamas" for years and years and years, and I only remember the name of the last one "Dona Carmen", a highly educated, incredibly firm and serious elderly woman who showed us right from wrong. I heard of Dona Carmen years later, supposedly she was still around, "alive and kicking". Someone who knew our family saw her she asked about us casually I guess, etc. I wonder if they know how much they meant to us. I wonder if they considered themselves family, I wonder if they think of us as "lost loved ones" too. And then I wonder much more than that. I wonder if this is what I want for my children, to leave a trail of "lost loved ones" everywhere they go. I almost can't bear for them to go through that pain of loving someone and losing them after a few years. I decide in a crazy moment I want to be a stay at home mom, shield them from all that pain. But then it hits me, I've ALREADY put them through that. With the opening of the new day care here in downtown which forced us all to leave the old day care they have all gone through this already, left a bunch of teachers (you can change the name but it's the same thing, the "mamas" who spend most of the day with them) who they loved dearly so that they could pick up their little lives and build them somewhere else. And then it hits me again, puzzle after puzzle of this piece starts coming together. That's why I've been so sad about leaving that day care behind. That's why I cried from the day I found out we were getting kicked out to the day I took the kids for the last time to a day two weeks ago when I dropped by to say hi. I am sad for MY "lost loved ones" -- it brings up feelings from my childhood, from loving a Dad from afar, loving a Mom who wasn't there most of the time, loving nannies that came and went, loving a sister who became a mom (my mom) when our last nanny left and then left herself for college. How many more times do we have to go through this? At least once more apparently, for we'll shortly be leaving this day care and moving them to Geneva, perhaps with a nanny. In the middle of my crying fit last night I decide no they will not have a nanny, I cannot do this to them. But then I am powerless to stop it. They have already lost, and sadly they will lose again.
Through my work I've recently been in involved in this "Thank you Mom" campaign, a very moving tribute to moms all over the world. Well, I would like to now extend that definition just a little bit... Thank you Nannies. Thank you Teachers. Thank you Caretakers. Thank you strong women who help shape our children, and who helped shaped me. I may have forgotten your names, but I will never forget your influence over me.
There's a part in the book where Skeeter's mom is telling her about an old nanny they had called Constantine who basically raised Skeeter but unexpectedly left 2 years before and Skeeter doesn't know what happened to her. As the mom reveals all the details of what happens to her she says to her daughter: "They say its like true love, good help. You only get one in a lifetime". And all of a sudden I find myself sobbing, sobbing uncontrollably, like I couldn't stop the tears from coming, never in a million years could I stop crying. I have to put the book down (or the Kindle anyway!) I'm so upset (I'm trying to find the quote today on the Kindle and I was so upset I didn't even mark the damn page where the quote was!). I'm almost afraid Gabi's going to wake up. I start racking my brain -- where is this coming from? Why is this book producing this reaction in me? And I sit there sobbing for another 5 minutes and all of a sudden it hits me...
As some of you may know, I am a child of divorce. On top of this, my mom was a flight attendant (for many many years) which means she was gone 4 days out of the week on most weeks and had two daughters to take care of (with no husband). So she did the best she could and she got us nannies, nanny after nanny paraded into my house. Black ones, white ones, fat ones, skinny ones, educated ones, non-educated ones, you name it. There were so many I can't remember the names. ALL I know is they weren't the help, they were my family, and I was theirs (or at least I thought I was). I have memories of riding in the backs of rickety old vans going to their homes (if you could call them that), hanging out with their kids in their neighborhoods, poor neighborhoods right next to our "well off" neighborhood. I didn't think anything of it. Granted, we weren't "well off" by any stretch of the imagination, so maybe I had more in common with them than I had with the people I went to school with every day, but because of my mom's work/life situation we forced ourselves into that group of "elite" who have help. Ironic isn't it, poor people who have help!
In any case, like I said, these women were my "mamas" for years and years and years, and I only remember the name of the last one "Dona Carmen", a highly educated, incredibly firm and serious elderly woman who showed us right from wrong. I heard of Dona Carmen years later, supposedly she was still around, "alive and kicking". Someone who knew our family saw her she asked about us casually I guess, etc. I wonder if they know how much they meant to us. I wonder if they considered themselves family, I wonder if they think of us as "lost loved ones" too. And then I wonder much more than that. I wonder if this is what I want for my children, to leave a trail of "lost loved ones" everywhere they go. I almost can't bear for them to go through that pain of loving someone and losing them after a few years. I decide in a crazy moment I want to be a stay at home mom, shield them from all that pain. But then it hits me, I've ALREADY put them through that. With the opening of the new day care here in downtown which forced us all to leave the old day care they have all gone through this already, left a bunch of teachers (you can change the name but it's the same thing, the "mamas" who spend most of the day with them) who they loved dearly so that they could pick up their little lives and build them somewhere else. And then it hits me again, puzzle after puzzle of this piece starts coming together. That's why I've been so sad about leaving that day care behind. That's why I cried from the day I found out we were getting kicked out to the day I took the kids for the last time to a day two weeks ago when I dropped by to say hi. I am sad for MY "lost loved ones" -- it brings up feelings from my childhood, from loving a Dad from afar, loving a Mom who wasn't there most of the time, loving nannies that came and went, loving a sister who became a mom (my mom) when our last nanny left and then left herself for college. How many more times do we have to go through this? At least once more apparently, for we'll shortly be leaving this day care and moving them to Geneva, perhaps with a nanny. In the middle of my crying fit last night I decide no they will not have a nanny, I cannot do this to them. But then I am powerless to stop it. They have already lost, and sadly they will lose again.
Through my work I've recently been in involved in this "Thank you Mom" campaign, a very moving tribute to moms all over the world. Well, I would like to now extend that definition just a little bit... Thank you Nannies. Thank you Teachers. Thank you Caretakers. Thank you strong women who help shape our children, and who helped shaped me. I may have forgotten your names, but I will never forget your influence over me.
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