Unsupportive Mother

Jacarra Brooks

                                                           Unsupportive Mother

           It’s Chicago, 1999, in the North Lawndale area. We live at 1916 S. Spaulding. My mom, my stepdad, my sister, my little brother, and my great granny. My great uncle Dino, who was in and out, also lived with us. He was my favorite. He allowed me to do whatever I wanted, even if it meant getting into an altercation with mom. As a child I was very quiet and curious. I was always getting into things. Although, me getting caught was rare because the people in my home were too busy worrying about other things. I would change my clothes at least five times a day, I would cut my hair, and I would torture my little brother. On one spring afternoon, I was holding on to the kitchen table while holding on to the microwave stand and swinging back and forth. My mom urged me to stop but I didn’t listen. After about five swings I fell face-first and there was blood everywhere. Blood on my face, blood on my brand new Reebok tracksuit, and blood all over the floor. Why didn't I listen to her? Now look at me! Bloody! Bruised! Got my mom yelling at me.

“Jacarra Brooks!” the doctor yells, as he leads my mom and I into this bright white room. As I lie down, the doctor places some sort of napkin under my chin and begins to pull some sort of string in and out .. in and out as I cry and yell at the top of my lungs. “Last one,” he says, “you’ve done a great job Jacarra but no more swinging!” He then places a huge white thing under my chin. I can already hear my classmates making fun of me.

***

It is fall now. The trees are orange, and the wind is blowing with just the right amount of sunlight. But my mother is crying. I ask her what’s wrong but she denies me. My sister, aka  “Miss Know It All”, informs me that my uncle Dino has passed. I’m not exactly sure how I should feel about the news, for I am only seven years old. I am unfamiliar with death, but I do know that my uncle will no longer be here to cook and enjoy weird food with me, to yell at my mom when I do something crazy, and to take me and my sister to the zoo.

“Wake up we’re going shopping!” says my sister. I immediately climb out of my bunk bed and begin getting dressed, though I am not excited to get clothes. I just want to be outdoors. We arrive to the store and my mom picks me out a yellow dress with pink flowers, white stockings, and black dress shoes. I was hoping for jeans. A tracksuit, or hell even a tee shirt! But my mom said that I Couldn't wear those type of items at a funeral. A funeral? What’s a funeral? I remember mom saying that it was a place where we get a chance to see our loved one one last time. The next morning, my rich ass grandmother flies in to Chicago from Texas for my uncle's funeral. She pulls up to our home in a black limousine. She’s wearing a fur coat, diamond earrings, and expensive shoes. We enter the limo and it’s really nice and spacious.I want to get up and run around the limo but I don’t want to upset my mom. When I see him for the last time, Dino is dressed in a nice black suit with shiny shoes. He looks as though he’s just resting. My family surrounds him with tears, kisses, and a few words. The next day my grandmother kisses me on the forehead and departs for Texas. The house is filled with an awkward silence now that Dino is gone. My great grandmother is handicapped. Does she enjoy being in her room alone in the dark or is my mother just that fucking selfish?  I go into my great grandmother's room sometimes to check on her. I know that my grandmother is heartbroken about the death of her son, Dino, but her sadness is much deeper than that. Whenever someone walks into her room she swears at them! The only time she sees daylight is when my mom bathes her and when it's time for her to eat.

***

It is now January, the year 2000. I am in the living room at my coloring table doing my homework. My mom is in the kitchen cooking while talking on the phone with her friend. She calls me into the kitchen to take my grandmother her sandwich. “Here granny’, “I don't want that shit! Bring me some water!” I go into the kitchen to tell my mother that she doesn't want the sandwich and that she wants some water instead, but she ignores me and continues to talk on the phone. I decide to pour her some water on my own. When I get to her room she begins to cough. I urge her to drink her water. After two sips of water she lies down and gets completely silent. “Granny, granny!’ No response. I run to the kitchen to tell my mom but she continues to ignore me. I continuously beg her to come until she finally agrees. A few moments later two men arrive. They carry my granny out on a long orange bed. “Where are they taking her mom?” “To the hospital, she's sick.” It has been a week and I am back in my yellow dress with pink flowers, white stockings, and black dress shoes. My granny is gone. She’s with Dino now. My grandmother’s room later became mine. I kept my night-light on and I would sometimes beg my sister to sleep with me. I was afraid that my granny would haunt me and reclaim her room.

                                                     ***

My mother had a gambling addiction. She would gamble at the casino overnight and power her phone off so no one would interrupt her. Sometimes I would think too hard and cry. Is my mother ok? Is she dead? My mother quit her job because her boyfriend was securing the household. He would make sure that the bills were paid and that we had every pair of Jordans until him and my mother split up. One morning, as we were getting ready to head to school, a man was waiting outside of our home. My mom handed me her car keys and ordered me to give them to the man. She was too fucking embarrassed to do so herself. The dealership was forced to pick the car up because my mom was too far behind on her monthly car payments. We ended up hitching a ride to school that day. Seems as though after that day, everything went downhill. I begin to notice that my mother wasn't able to support us. She would often leave us home alone without notice with nothing to eat. Was she out gambling again? How could she leave us alone like this? Whenever she returned home, we would always transfer our belongings to my cousin’s house. We were getting evicted. It wasn't long before we officially moved in with them. It was difficult to adjust because my cousin already had six children of her own with a three bedroom apartment. My mother started disappearing again. I found it quite annoying and disrespectful. She was ungrateful. My cousin would get angry at times and cry. She was tired of watching someone else's children on top of watching her own. My cousin was tired. For she had done all she could for us. Soon enough we moved to my aunt’s house. We shared a room in her creepy-ass basement. My mom was absent then too. I had already given up on my mom. My dad began to come around. He and my mom had gotten back together. He helped her get an apartment and she also found a new job. Hopefully she’ll get her act together.

   

     My mother is pregnant now. After 12 fucking years you decide to have another child? My mother and father have been planning this baby for weeks. They would often ask me and my siblings if we wanted a baby brother but we didn’t really care. My father wanted a son and that’s exactly what he got. They named him Jeremy. By the time Jeremy was one, my mother was expecting another child. This time it was a baby girl and she wasn’t planned. Her name was Je’Maria. My big sister was a runaway, so I was always assigned to watch my younger siblings. At only twelve years old. I couldn’t enjoy my childhood. I wasn’t able to go outside and socialize like everyone else. If I tried to, my mother would yell at me and force me back into the house. I had to cook, clean, change diapers, and prepare bottles. My mother and my father had broken up, so she was working overnight to secure the household. My father didn’t have enough fucking sense to babysit his own fucking kids. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. After a while my mother grew tired from working all of the time. She began to shorten her hours at work. She’s about to start fucking up again.

       It’s been two years. I am fourteen. We live in a new apartment not too far away from our last home. My mother is dating now. She goes out almost every night. She never asks anyone to look after Jeremy and Jemaria, instead she yells “look after your siblings!” when she’s damn near outside of the front door. There are local parties for teens that I would love to attend but I always have to wait on my mom to return home. But by the time she made it home, it would always be too late. She never considered my childhood or my idea of enjoyment.  Was it because she gave birth to my big sister at the tender age of fifteen? Was it because she was unable to enjoy her childhood?

                                                    

       I am now twenty one, but these memories forever lie within me. My mother remains the same. I am a firm believer that she will never change. She tries to contact me at times but I rarely answer for her. She’s not calling to see if I'm in good health, to ask if I need help with anything, nor does she ask questions about my new school. The pain from my unsupportive-ass mother has not made me weak. It has made me strong and independent. I will continue to move forward with my life, and if I ever have children I vow to be there for them. As a mother should be.