Mom

I've been putting off writing a blog about my mother and only mentioning her in others briefly. She was an important factor in my life and how I developed.

Memories:

I remember a 80+ degree home because of two wood stoves in our log cabin.

I remember my mom loved music and wanted it all over the house so my dad built cubies to have the speakers hanging from the ceiling in our finished basement, connected to the "boom box" upstairs. And because we grew up in a clean home my mom could dance all over the house.

I remember when planting grass for our new home on our 17 acers of land, we ran around barefoot in old clothing and got super muddy in the freshly tilled dirt. I also remember the bath afterwards, was rather gross.

Hand sewn dresses and costumes for Christmas, Easter, Halloween. She was a savvy (Mormon) homemaker as we lived in the Log Cabin my dad hand made located in Kyser, WV. We had a small homestead garden, some chickens, a dog and a tire swing. Per usual, as a child I thought we had it all.

I remember my mom chasing me around the house with a belt after I did something bad. And beat me. I can't remember what I did wrong, but I remember sliding between the bed side table and bed/under beds so avoid being reach me. I still remember her face of anger.

I remember listening to screaming battles after we went to bed of my parents and my dad shouting and his voice cracking "I'll walk out the door and get divorce papers right now." I remember asking my sister in the top bunch what divorce meant that night.

Then my dad got a job at Citi Bank 4 years into creating our new life in WV. Apparently the offer was sweet. They put the house up for sale, moved closer to both of their home towns, and we rented a home in Clear Spring.

I remember my mom telling me that Santa wasn't real at 9 years old, sitting in the kitchen at the island on the stool, looking out at my brother through the window of the back door as he was playing outside on his bike. Everything in that kitchen was painted an ugly blue. I cried a lot, she told me to stop it so my brother didn't ask questions and not tell him until she did.

I remember a neighborhood dog got our chocolate lab pregnant. She had a liter of 9. My mother cared for those puppies as we prepared to sell them, on the inside patio that connected to the kitchen.

I'm the one on the left. (5 maybe)

I remember not knowing how to do my own hair at 8 years old, because my mother always did it. And she left for a few months, I guess getting herself together. My dad sucked at cooking. That was the first time I ever had the circle bologna slices from Oscar Mayer. *cringes* We ate a lot of cereal and spaghetti. Man that sucked.

I remember my dad throwing the pots and pans out the front door and into the street, when my mom came back for "half of the cook ware". I was waiting in the car outside up the road. I don't think my dad knew I saw the entire thing.

I remember when she got a new house and we were invited over to check it out. It wasn't terrible, but it was lonely, and different. We got to pick our bed rooms.

I remember my mom riding her bike in the mornings. 10-20 miles bright and early before the sun was up. She told me later she cried though the hole thing, every morning. Getting out her depression from being a newly single mom now.

Disney 1999 (I'm on the left)

She woke us up for school, and said goodbye. We got ourselves on the bus with breakfast. We went to school. We rode the bus home, and let ourselves in. Mom had made dinner and left it hot on the stove. And then she left for cosmology school. We put ourselves to bed, and we usually didn't see her until the morning. We often made our own bed times, We were pretty decent kids.

We stopped family photos after the divorce, of course. I was 9 then. I don't have nearly as many photos of myself as teen as I did as a child when someone else was taking them. Nor do I have any of my mother. She wasn't much or photos, unless they were perfect.

First Easter Sunday with out my mom. Our 'new Easter dress tradition was broken. I was 10. This was hand-me-down from my sister.

I remember packing all I owned and taking it to and from each parents home. Every other month and every other weekend. My giant under armor duffel bag, that held any personal belongings, clothing or toys I wanted each month, was red.

She asked me if I liked Chad, the man she was dating and wanted to marry. I told her no. She paused and asked why not? I told her I didn't know, but I knew I didn't like him. I really didn't, I thought his humor was rude and cocky. He was selfish and thoughtless. I remember thinking he was irresponsible.

My mom got married.

I remember we went to the beach together, and my mom tried to teach me how to put in a tampon because I was on my period.

3ish months later she sat us all down after a quiet and difficult ride home from switching houses over the weekend at our dad's. Her eye was black and blue her cheek bruised too. And other bruises other places. She said Chad is gone, and isn't ever coming back. She said he emptied their joint bank account and left the state. She said there was a restraining order and she blocked his calls. She still uses that very same phone number. She cried. We cried and we sat there awkwardly not fully understanding what happen. We found dried blood around the house she missed cleaning up, on the walls, on the side of the computer...

Desseret Food Storage

The following week I helped my mom put groceries away that was oddly in paper bags, and the lables on the canned food and boxes said "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints." I knew our church had a food bank process-where they made their own food. But we've never been a family who needed that help. She noticed me looking at a can of chicken noodle soup, not the regular brand I was famillar with, and I knew exactly what it meant. She asked me not to tell the others...

Christmas that year was our first year we shopped for each other exclusively at the dollar store. My brother got me a blue sparkly baton.

I remember my mom sitting us down again after CPS had come to our school again; it has happen several times before over the years. She told us that we needed to practice what to say when they come again. She got another tip they would be visiting our school again from her lawyer. We were to not answer any questions, not even our names, unless a parent or guardian were present. She told us she would loose custody if another negative report was made. And so CPS that time, got nothing. I was 13 my sister 15., she did the talking.

My mom started dating again. My brothers soccer coach. I didn't mind him at first. My mom was happy, he liked kids, and my brother was best friends and team mates with his son. It seemed okay....

We couldn't afford living in the farm house we were in so we moved again, to one of the properties beside my grand parents business that they owned. To my knowledge it was rent free most of the time. The house was old, shabby, and small. It didn't look like any homes we usually lived in. My mom went to work and decorated and painted walls. I remember getting mad at her for the neon barney colors on the walls she painted my sisters and I's room. I wasn't ungrateful, I was sad and angry we kept moving and nothing felt right. It didn't feel like home. It was in the basement of the house, with those jumping spider-crickets...ugh.

I remember when I told my mom I wanted to go to the new performing arts high school, and start taking voice lessons to prep me for auditioning, she paid for my weekly voice lessons and took me every week, even when my dad wasn't supportive. He didn't seem to mind financially supporting my brother's interests in multiple sports every year though. My mom wished I sang country instead of Opera.

About 18 months past and my mom said we were moving in with Lynn. She wasn't marrying him... yet. I just assumed it was to save more money. She didn't seem happy to me. I judged her because I was actively practicing the Mormon faith without her, and living with a man unmarried was, wrong.

She wore neon orange see through pants with a thong around the house in the mornings, flipping pancakes making breakfast listening to country music. Weirdo....

I remember her grounding me what seemed like weekly because Lynn screamed at her, often, to do so. After all it was HIS house. And her daughter was living in his house. . .

Lynn got my mother a Jeep for her birthday, that she wasn't allowed to drive. My mom doesn't even like jeeps. He displayed it in the back yard and showed it to her out the window. My mothers love language is gifts and he bought a new vehicle for himself on her birthday. She cried all day. A few months later he was in an accident and totaled the jeep drunk driving home. My mom had us pack our belongings, apparently we were going to a hotel. We were getting out. I was thrilled. My brother, not so much....

My mom Married Lynn in Jackson Hole WY. We, the kids, weren't invited.

Those things you think your child would forget about you in your anger? They might not. I have many traumatic memories, from both parents. To the parents reading this, can you promise to do better? Work on yourself and get yourself into therapy so you don't use your anger and take it out on your children? So you don't abandon them emotionally. So you can avoid or get out of abusive relationships as soon as possible. Maybe save them a few thousands hours and dollars of their own future therapy.

I remember my weight and what I looked like was so important to my mother, that many hurtful things were said and done over my childhood and teenage life. Read Bootylicious

Little did she know, she's not part of my family anymore.

During my last Pinoneer Trek with the Mormon church she wrote me a letter to have opened while on the 3 day adventure. "Please have the time of your life, these are the days you remember the most... ones you can share with your future family." I remember reading this in the woods, being eaten alive by bugs, praying and reading scripture. I cried a lot. Even then, reading it felt fake. No matter how much I wished it was true then, it was just for show. This may be the type of mother she wanted to be, but this note is a reminder that this mother was only this way on paper. Or behind closed doors where a man in her life didn't hold control over her thoughts, actions and words.

I remember my mom was compliant as much as her conservative heart could allow with my funky hair colors, eye make up and skinny jeans, mis-matched socks and quirky personality; all while in her rough abusive relationships. Do I think she tried her best? For who she was at the time, yes. I do wish she was someone stronger and happier though, She probably thinks the same. My mental illness was so hard for me as a teenager.

Her names went as so...

Stacey Younker

Stacey Rhodes

Mom

Stacey Canoy

Stacey Younker

Stacey... Mills? No, just Stacey Younker. She never took her last husbands name.

My mom told me no one would love me or stick by me like she did. Like "family" did. But I've found real love with friends and even loved romantic partners. None of them have hit me, abused me, hurt me or manipulated me. None of them have consistently made me feel small in public as I've watched her husbands do. The love I have experienced is pretty fabulous, and she deserve to feel it too.

So mom, if you find this: I don't want to you to get better for your grandchildren who don't know your face or name very well. I don't want you to get better for the men who still manipulate you. I don't want you to change for your 3 kids that you were a single mother to, when your first marriage failure tore us all apart. None of us are close to each other, even as adults now.

I hope you change for YOU. Because you can do better, mom. Because you aren't happy. I'm working on myself, for me, whether or not we ever have another friendship again. Because my worth isn't attached to you or anyone. You're better then the trash men you've had in your life. Real love is out there, you deserve to experience it! I believe you can escape the cycle. I believe you can unlearn your homophobia, bigotry and racism. I believe you can love your body, at any weight and size, with or with out make up, with all the wrinkles you will get as you age. You can do this, because I did. I've shed the hurtful words and many toxic thoughts that were passed down from you and the people who said them to you. It's not all your fault, I see now you've almost never been truly loved. And if you have, it's been quite some time and you've forgotten. I'm calling you to think about growth that isn't attached to money.

Self improvement is a journey, and I'm not done yet. If you find yourself getting rid of those who hurt you and embracing self love-hit me up, you will be a pretty fabulous woman if you can over come those things. I've met some stellar women through my business who have come out the other end of domestic violence! I'd probably really enjoy getting to know that new woman and be your friend again. Someone who isn't a workaholic anymore and can see my love language is quality time; that was something you could never give me growing up. Our quality time consisted of picking me up from the library and our alone time in the car driving home. Often time our commutes you were on the phone with clients. To this day one of my pet peeve's is listening to others talk on the phone.

Until then, there are amazing people in my life that give me the quality time you didn't.... couldn't. I can only assume it's because you've already given so much to the men who didn't deserve, you were stretched so thin it that there was little left to give me. I hope when you reach your next breaking point and leave your situation that someone is there to fill you up with goodness. I don't think it can be me.

Your Daughter has found herself, and it wasn't by your side.

📱Text- "Loveis" to 22522, if you or a loved on is going through domestic violence. #LoveIsRespect #LoveDoesntHurt #DomesticViolenceAwareness #Growth