I have a confession to make that might make me sound like a heartless bastard:
I have always hated Mothers day.
Sounds brutal right? Yeah, I know. It totally does, which is why I have always tried to hide this little dark secret. But try as I might, it's always been there, making me feel like there is something wrong with me (verdict is still out). As a kid, mothers day might as well of been "Lamborghini day" which sounds really fun...... if you have a Lambo.
Which I didn't. Hence the dislike.
For me, mother's day felt like everyone was celebrating something that I didn't have and it made me feel like I was some sort of damaged goods. I felt like a dented can of beans at the grocery store, reduced price for quick sale.
Ya....that might not be my best analogy.
To be completely honest, as a kid I pretty much hated ALL the major holidays (who says that kind of crap?). Most days, I could pretend that everything was normal and fine but come holidays there was that social expectation to spend the day celebrating with my family. Not exactly something I was keen on as we weren't much of a cohesive unit.
Maybe I should explain:
The cliff notes on Kevin's childhood.
January 28th 1981:
I was born to a loving mom and dad. BOOM.
.jpg)
My mom by all accounts was great at the whole mom thing, kicking ass and taking bets..... until around the age of 5 when she traded up for a career in booze and drugs. Her new career flourished.
The next ten years were spent in cyclical disaster mode until around the age of 15 when I just hung up on my mom's drunk phone calls and never picked back up (the long distance charges were killing me). Before this implosion, my mom and I were really close and she was a big part of my life. After she went Lohan, she was still a big part of my life but for all the wrong reasons.
Through all this, my older sister and I battled like cats and vacuum cleaners and it took about a dozen years before we called truce and became friends. Now she's one of my besties.
As for my dad, he did his best. He always provided and did what he could but he simply didn't have the tools to do it on his own. Trying to work night shift to pay the bills while raising two angry/confused kids must've been phenomenally hard. He did EVERYTHING he ever could to make sure we were ok and for that, I am forever grateful.
He is a good man.
Plus his name is Dexter, which means that you can call him Sexy Dexy.
Automatic street cred.
So that's my youth in a literary nutshell. For about 15 years I was a pissed off little kid (with somewhat good reason) trying to pretend I didn't care. Every time Mother's day came around, I resented it for forcing me to face the ugly truth that my mom wasn't going to be my mom anymore. She chose alcohol over us and while there is surely much more to it than just that; it's basically what it boils down to. My mom really shit the bed at being a mom. And it sucked.
A lot.
But this isn't about my mom. Too much of my time has been spent trying to understand that and I don't want to focus on it anymore. This is about what a mom should be.
This is about the amazing mother figures who snuck into my life when I wasn't paying attention.
Around the age of 14, I found myself moving for the second time in four years, this time to a small town in northern Alberta called Peace River. It was a beautiful place to grow up with really good, honest people. Unfortunately at the time I saw none of these things, being the pissed off little shit I was.
One of my first friends in PR was a neighbourhood girl by the name of Patti Long and it was through her that I met my first stand-in mom.
Sue Long was immediately warm and friendly to me. In return for this, I was immediately scared of her, confused about why she was being so nice to me. It turned out that she just IS nice. In fact, she is just plain fantastic. For the 7 or so years that I spent in PR, she was always there to make sure I knew I had a place I could go if I couldn't go home. Every holiday when my dad failed to put anything together (the joys of a workaholic dad), she and her equally great husband Pat were always there to welcome us in as part of the family. I probably wasn't the best dinner guest as I really hated being a charity case at the dinner table but I was the only one that seemed to notice and every year, they always welcomed me back. And back I came with each holiday and over the years, she began to mean a lot to me. Though I held her at a bit of a distance and rarely took her up on their open door, just knowing it was there for me meant the world. That feeling of reassurance and acceptance gave me the safety net I needed to let me slowly open up the doors on who I was becoming.
I don't know if she even knows just what her presence in my life meant to me. I surely didn't as a kid and only now looking back does it fully register.
Thank you Sue for giving me some semblance of a normal childhood. It meant the world.
Fast forward a bunch of years and I'm living in Vancouver, working as an actor. I found myself looking for a new agent and long story short, in comes Bridget Drynan into my life. An agent at InspirationALL talent agency, I went into a meeting with her looking for representation and came out with a whole new understanding of what the term "Mother agent" really means.
At first, I thought she was simply just an agent, but try as I might to keep her at a distance (a habit of mine), her exuberance and infectious spirit wore me down and I suddenly found myself working with a great friend. While she was my agent, representing me for work, in reality it was so much more than that. When I first met her, I was feeling discouraged work wise and was even contemplating a career change but she truly believed in my ability, even when I didn't. Her unwavering conviction in me was almost scary. She has an innate ability to see into people and give them what they need without them knowing it's happening. It was so weird to have an agent that I could actually talk to where I didn't leave feeling like I just lost a game of surprise chess. She and Tricia (the equally lovely agency director) always made sure to make me feel at home when I'd stop by the agency, feeding me and bathing me in more attention than I probably deserved. Case in point: It's not often an agent ignores a ringing phone and it's something she would always make a point to do when I'd visit. When I left to travel the world, it only increased her resolve to take care of me. As sad as she was for having me leave Vancouver, she was steadfast in keeping in touch with me from across the world. Skyping me multiple times a week to keep me from feeling homesick and make sure I was behaving.
A fantastic mother to her 3 nice girls, she has leveled up her mom abilities to near Yoda proportions. Her mother bear strength is over shadowed only by the warmth of her heart, which she wears freely on her sleeve.
In getting to know Bridget, I have learned what a true mother can be and I am honoured to consider her a close friend. She got past my defences and into my heart. I plan to keep her there for the rest of my life.
Tissue break.
Along the way, there were some casualties; my grandmother being the first. When my mom first left, my grandmother was there to pick up the reins and while at the time I hated her for it, she did her best and never left (that last one's kind of important). She tried to give us a somewhat normal childhood in the midst of crazy times and I can only imaging how hard that must've been. I remember her taking us on trips up to the family cottage to get away from it all. Those are good memories.
Unfortunately, so much of that time with her has been lost in the memory dump that comes with traumatic events so it's all pretty hazy. I never got to get to know her as an adult (she passed when I was 14) and I only wish that I could get more time with her now. I wonder what she was like and how we would've gotten along. I would hope that I would've made her proud in some way. She deserves not only a thank you but an apology for the disrespectful kid I was to her when I was young. I was mad at my life and took it out on her. I hate that I did that. I owe her many thanks and I hope that somehow she knows what her hard work means to me.
There was also my Aunt Dianne. I remember going to visit her and my Uncle Kevin (for who I am named after) when I was about ten. They were so amazing and at the end of my stay with them I apparently (as she tells it) asked if I could just live with them instead of going home. It's no wonder though. They were warm and caring people and I would've been lucky to have stayed. Life however took me far away from NFLD where they lived and in part of my youthful purging of all things mother, my Aunt Dianne (along with that whole side of my family) unfortunately got unfairly lumped into that.
Now that I have grown up (somewhat), we have gotten back in contact and it's heartening to see that she not only still has that mother spirit in her blood but a real vitality for life.
So for all my travels through this little blue marble of ours, I have been pretty lucky. I have met some fantastic mother-type souls who took care of me. But there was one more very important mother in my life. One that didn't actually want to be a mother to me but was given the role anyways, much to both of our frustration.
My sister Tara, being one year older than me, got promoted to interim mom at the young age of 12. It did not go well. She had every reason to resent me for needing to be looked after and I in turn, resented her for trying to tell me what to do. She was basically denied her childhood by being put in charge of me and I can only imagine how unfair it must've seemed that she was expected to suddenly grow up while I got to stay a kid. So of course, we fought like crazy. But somewhere along the way, we grew up, moving on with our lives and we met again as adults. Adults who had just happened to go through all the same experiences as kids and once we started talking as friends it was eye opening to see that she too was feeling the same way about life. We had a lot in common for all our differences. Turns out I wasn't on my own all that time and that my greatest enemy could've been my closest friend if only I had been able to see it. Looking back I really wish I had been able to see that because we missed out on a lot great years by spending all that time fighting.
Watching how my sister has gone through her adult life has taught me a lot about one's potential. She pursued her masters in social work, working to take care of children who are stuck in unhealthy families (a parallel not lost on me).
She also got married to a great guy (what's up Toby) and chose to have kids after hanging with me in the anti-kids camp for so long.
Now I have a beautiful little 1 1/2 year old niece who I get to watch grow up and it regularly blows my mind. As someone who never wanted to have kids either, watching my sister go through the process has really changed my perceptions on it all and I can't believe how totally awesome I find my little niece. I'm not saying I have ANY desire to get one of my own (I'm thinking I might just rent hers)....... it's just that I now understand why she did. I mean just look at this kid:
My sister went from being stuck as a young substitute mom, to a grown adult trying to help troubled kids, then choosing to be a mother herself, all the while handling herself with the utmost grace and composure. Her example has taught me more then I ever expected to learn on the subject. I wrote earlier that this post wouldn't be about my mother but about what a mother could be.
Turns out that it actually is about my mother. Just not in the way you think.
Through my sister, I have had a re-education on what being a mother really is. I am humbled and I am proud. I am intimidated and inspired. Not only by who she has become but at the daily self sacrifice she displays through the struggles of motherhood. Because that's what motherhood is.
Love and sacrifice.
Everyday for the rest of your life.
Thank you for teaching me what I never expected to learn Tara.
Happy Mothers day.
I have always hated Mothers day.
Sounds brutal right? Yeah, I know. It totally does, which is why I have always tried to hide this little dark secret. But try as I might, it's always been there, making me feel like there is something wrong with me (verdict is still out). As a kid, mothers day might as well of been "Lamborghini day" which sounds really fun...... if you have a Lambo.
Which I didn't. Hence the dislike.
For me, mother's day felt like everyone was celebrating something that I didn't have and it made me feel like I was some sort of damaged goods. I felt like a dented can of beans at the grocery store, reduced price for quick sale.
Ya....that might not be my best analogy.
To be completely honest, as a kid I pretty much hated ALL the major holidays (who says that kind of crap?). Most days, I could pretend that everything was normal and fine but come holidays there was that social expectation to spend the day celebrating with my family. Not exactly something I was keen on as we weren't much of a cohesive unit.
Maybe I should explain:
The cliff notes on Kevin's childhood.
January 28th 1981:
I was born to a loving mom and dad. BOOM.
.jpg)
The next ten years were spent in cyclical disaster mode until around the age of 15 when I just hung up on my mom's drunk phone calls and never picked back up (the long distance charges were killing me). Before this implosion, my mom and I were really close and she was a big part of my life. After she went Lohan, she was still a big part of my life but for all the wrong reasons.
Through all this, my older sister and I battled like cats and vacuum cleaners and it took about a dozen years before we called truce and became friends. Now she's one of my besties.
As for my dad, he did his best. He always provided and did what he could but he simply didn't have the tools to do it on his own. Trying to work night shift to pay the bills while raising two angry/confused kids must've been phenomenally hard. He did EVERYTHING he ever could to make sure we were ok and for that, I am forever grateful.
He is a good man.
Plus his name is Dexter, which means that you can call him Sexy Dexy.
Automatic street cred.
 |
| Sexy Dex keeping it real in the kitchen |
So that's my youth in a literary nutshell. For about 15 years I was a pissed off little kid (with somewhat good reason) trying to pretend I didn't care. Every time Mother's day came around, I resented it for forcing me to face the ugly truth that my mom wasn't going to be my mom anymore. She chose alcohol over us and while there is surely much more to it than just that; it's basically what it boils down to. My mom really shit the bed at being a mom. And it sucked.
A lot.
But this isn't about my mom. Too much of my time has been spent trying to understand that and I don't want to focus on it anymore. This is about what a mom should be.
This is about the amazing mother figures who snuck into my life when I wasn't paying attention.
Around the age of 14, I found myself moving for the second time in four years, this time to a small town in northern Alberta called Peace River. It was a beautiful place to grow up with really good, honest people. Unfortunately at the time I saw none of these things, being the pissed off little shit I was.
One of my first friends in PR was a neighbourhood girl by the name of Patti Long and it was through her that I met my first stand-in mom.Sue Long was immediately warm and friendly to me. In return for this, I was immediately scared of her, confused about why she was being so nice to me. It turned out that she just IS nice. In fact, she is just plain fantastic. For the 7 or so years that I spent in PR, she was always there to make sure I knew I had a place I could go if I couldn't go home. Every holiday when my dad failed to put anything together (the joys of a workaholic dad), she and her equally great husband Pat were always there to welcome us in as part of the family. I probably wasn't the best dinner guest as I really hated being a charity case at the dinner table but I was the only one that seemed to notice and every year, they always welcomed me back. And back I came with each holiday and over the years, she began to mean a lot to me. Though I held her at a bit of a distance and rarely took her up on their open door, just knowing it was there for me meant the world. That feeling of reassurance and acceptance gave me the safety net I needed to let me slowly open up the doors on who I was becoming.
I don't know if she even knows just what her presence in my life meant to me. I surely didn't as a kid and only now looking back does it fully register.
Thank you Sue for giving me some semblance of a normal childhood. It meant the world.
Fast forward a bunch of years and I'm living in Vancouver, working as an actor. I found myself looking for a new agent and long story short, in comes Bridget Drynan into my life. An agent at InspirationALL talent agency, I went into a meeting with her looking for representation and came out with a whole new understanding of what the term "Mother agent" really means.
At first, I thought she was simply just an agent, but try as I might to keep her at a distance (a habit of mine), her exuberance and infectious spirit wore me down and I suddenly found myself working with a great friend. While she was my agent, representing me for work, in reality it was so much more than that. When I first met her, I was feeling discouraged work wise and was even contemplating a career change but she truly believed in my ability, even when I didn't. Her unwavering conviction in me was almost scary. She has an innate ability to see into people and give them what they need without them knowing it's happening. It was so weird to have an agent that I could actually talk to where I didn't leave feeling like I just lost a game of surprise chess. She and Tricia (the equally lovely agency director) always made sure to make me feel at home when I'd stop by the agency, feeding me and bathing me in more attention than I probably deserved. Case in point: It's not often an agent ignores a ringing phone and it's something she would always make a point to do when I'd visit. When I left to travel the world, it only increased her resolve to take care of me. As sad as she was for having me leave Vancouver, she was steadfast in keeping in touch with me from across the world. Skyping me multiple times a week to keep me from feeling homesick and make sure I was behaving.A fantastic mother to her 3 nice girls, she has leveled up her mom abilities to near Yoda proportions. Her mother bear strength is over shadowed only by the warmth of her heart, which she wears freely on her sleeve.
In getting to know Bridget, I have learned what a true mother can be and I am honoured to consider her a close friend. She got past my defences and into my heart. I plan to keep her there for the rest of my life.
Tissue break.
Along the way, there were some casualties; my grandmother being the first. When my mom first left, my grandmother was there to pick up the reins and while at the time I hated her for it, she did her best and never left (that last one's kind of important). She tried to give us a somewhat normal childhood in the midst of crazy times and I can only imaging how hard that must've been. I remember her taking us on trips up to the family cottage to get away from it all. Those are good memories.
Unfortunately, so much of that time with her has been lost in the memory dump that comes with traumatic events so it's all pretty hazy. I never got to get to know her as an adult (she passed when I was 14) and I only wish that I could get more time with her now. I wonder what she was like and how we would've gotten along. I would hope that I would've made her proud in some way. She deserves not only a thank you but an apology for the disrespectful kid I was to her when I was young. I was mad at my life and took it out on her. I hate that I did that. I owe her many thanks and I hope that somehow she knows what her hard work means to me.
Now that I have grown up (somewhat), we have gotten back in contact and it's heartening to see that she not only still has that mother spirit in her blood but a real vitality for life.
 |
| A visit in 2004 |
So for all my travels through this little blue marble of ours, I have been pretty lucky. I have met some fantastic mother-type souls who took care of me. But there was one more very important mother in my life. One that didn't actually want to be a mother to me but was given the role anyways, much to both of our frustration.
My sister Tara, being one year older than me, got promoted to interim mom at the young age of 12. It did not go well. She had every reason to resent me for needing to be looked after and I in turn, resented her for trying to tell me what to do. She was basically denied her childhood by being put in charge of me and I can only imagine how unfair it must've seemed that she was expected to suddenly grow up while I got to stay a kid. So of course, we fought like crazy. But somewhere along the way, we grew up, moving on with our lives and we met again as adults. Adults who had just happened to go through all the same experiences as kids and once we started talking as friends it was eye opening to see that she too was feeling the same way about life. We had a lot in common for all our differences. Turns out I wasn't on my own all that time and that my greatest enemy could've been my closest friend if only I had been able to see it. Looking back I really wish I had been able to see that because we missed out on a lot great years by spending all that time fighting.
 |
| From head lock to hug |
She also got married to a great guy (what's up Toby) and chose to have kids after hanging with me in the anti-kids camp for so long.
Now I have a beautiful little 1 1/2 year old niece who I get to watch grow up and it regularly blows my mind. As someone who never wanted to have kids either, watching my sister go through the process has really changed my perceptions on it all and I can't believe how totally awesome I find my little niece. I'm not saying I have ANY desire to get one of my own (I'm thinking I might just rent hers)....... it's just that I now understand why she did. I mean just look at this kid:
My sister went from being stuck as a young substitute mom, to a grown adult trying to help troubled kids, then choosing to be a mother herself, all the while handling herself with the utmost grace and composure. Her example has taught me more then I ever expected to learn on the subject. I wrote earlier that this post wouldn't be about my mother but about what a mother could be.
Turns out that it actually is about my mother. Just not in the way you think.
Through my sister, I have had a re-education on what being a mother really is. I am humbled and I am proud. I am intimidated and inspired. Not only by who she has become but at the daily self sacrifice she displays through the struggles of motherhood. Because that's what motherhood is.
Love and sacrifice.
Everyday for the rest of your life.
Thank you for teaching me what I never expected to learn Tara.
Happy Mothers day.
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