Becoming My Mothers Mother

Hi. For animosity, I will be keeping things vague. I also haven't written in a while so please excuse any/all errors lol.

My mother was born and raised in a small village in Mexico. *Cue the stereotypical orange filter* My timeline of her events are a little wavy, from what I can recall, she developed a tumor in her early/mid teen years. A tumor in her head. She was in and out of hospitals that were a dangerous nine hour bus ride away from her home. There were times when she was riding with her mother the bus would get stopped by criminals looking to instill fear into the already poor and impoverished. Looking to steal anything and everything they could sell, no matter the value. At some point, the doctors took a piece of her skull out. They left her with a soft spot towards the back of her head. Maybe they had to, maybe it was the only option. Who knows.

Towards the end of her draining stays at the hospital, around 17 or 18 years old, she laid a sheer curtain pull away from (my future tia S) an older lady. I can't speak for these details but all i know is my mom locked eyes with her nephew. A mid height, thinly built boy her age. She used to call it, "love at first sight". Now she calls it regret. She met my father (who is a whollleeee other story), about two years older than her, dirty blond with blue eyes. They had their love story in the late 90s. Fell in love, married, had me, dangerously crossed the boarder into California for a new life. The usual stuff. The three of us lived in LA for a while, my grandma lived in New York with a sister scrapping to make ends meet to get all of us together in NY. We eventually made it and my brother came along almost three years after me.

My parents were happy. At least i thought so. My dad was cheating on her for a while and my mom was sick of it. In 2008 my parents split. It was the best/hardest thing to happen to me. I saw my dad kiss another woman in front of me. I heard their fights. I'd take my little brother to the only other room in our one bedroom basement and play My Little Ponies with him in the closet so he wouldn't hear anything. I would say that was the start of becoming a parent. My dad picked up english very fast. He had to, it was the early 2000s, Latinos weren't as accpeted as we are today (and sometimes we still arent to this day) He managed to get a really good job transporting food along the east coast. Not to backtrack, but my favorite memories with him are the times he'd let me come with him on his shorter trips out of state. I love rock because of him. Anyways... my mother, with her soft spot, could not work. I dont care what anyone says, to this day i do not let her work. One hit and im out a mother. She stayed at home to clean and watch us. She tried learning english multiple times, it was just hard for her. I didnt pick up english very well until i was about six. Even when i barely knew, i was translating my dads paperwork, signing my brother and i up for school at our new district, translating to potential landlords. I did it all for them.

When my dad left, my mom heavily relied on me. It was her, her mother and her kids. We're all she has. she became her translator, confidant, therapist, everything under the sun. She had heavy conversations with me. I was thinking about life, death, sex (she gave me the talk early on and warned me about boys), everything before i even hit double digits. Maybe all that stress is why i got my period before 10.

Between being sick, leaving school, her friends, family, her country, she had me right after her 20th birthday. She never really got to be a kid. And here she was, with two kids. We grew up together. As i grew up, i'd notice her childish tendencies: speaking to stuffed animals, relating more to the younger crowd than other parents, etc. It really started to dawn on me pretty recently: I'm raising my mother.

How can i say that? What make me say that? How could i disrespect my mother like that?
Simple. At 19 i had to drop out of college to work. So, thats what i've been doing. Holding down long term jobs to help my family. June 2020 my brother moved out to be in LA with our dad and half sibs. Narrowed it down to my mom, grandma and I. Quarantine didnt help, being considered "essential" was, got me out the house for a while. I started realizing she didnt do much all day. My grandma has never stopped working for the same man who hired her 20 years ago. I've always been closer to her while my brother was closer to our mom. They were more alike. More aloof and laid back. My grandma and i are serious, always striving for more. 2020 was rough. I was feeling more annoyed with my mom. I'd ask her to help me with x,y,z, none would be done. She'd forget. She would procrastinate. She would stay glued to her phone.

I was lucky enough to recently go see my brother. In the process of mending thing with my dad while over there, he gifted me a car. My first car. My car. I paid to ship it cross country and have had it for a few months now. I owe it to my parents (mom and grandma) to use it for them. My fridays after work consist of my mom and i going to pick my grandma up from work. Costco runs, parks, all the things they wanna do.

I haven;t really gotten to the parenting have i? as my first post it's all just background, not specifics. not yet.

I have to remind her very friday morning when i leave to work to be ready by 3. She isnt.
i have to tell her to shut her phone off at 1 am (we share a room).
i have to watch what she east.
i have to make sure she doesnt stay in the bathroom for too long since shes on her phone.
i have to remind her to grab the essentials before leaving.
pre car, i would lie and tell her the uber is here when it wasnt and we would still leave late.
i feel like a mother to my mother.

Due to her soft spot, she walks slower, holds onto things when stepping down. she's fallen to her knees leaving our door. she's fallen out of ubers (sedans not anything bigger). I have to get out my car first to make sure she can get out safely. im scared she'll fall and hurt herself. im scared to lose her. i feel like im watching a baby. i love her so much. i do. i could never be half the woman she is. Im just exhausted sometimes. My grandmother asks when i'll give her a grandbaby and i joke its too soon for me, but in my mind she is my child. I try to watch her health, her safety, give her comfort, speak to her.

We went to michaels and i lost her four times! it took two hours to just get out the house, we get there and she wondered away even after i paid. I just had to walk to my car. My grandma stayed to look for her and i stormed off. I feel inconsiderate. This woman survived a tumor, births, immigrating, divorce, moves, her child moving away, she is so strong and here i am. complaining. She is the sole reason i am a legal resident of the states. i couldnt have a job, my car, anything without her. im sorry mami. i could never have this conversation with her. when i do snap she gets so upset with herself and i immediately apologize once i cool down. i try to always show her love. material, emotional, physical. i feel terrible when she tells me the same stories over and over and i zone out or block it out. it wasn't until recently i realized those are her only stories.

im sorry. i love you