Two incredible moms in my life are the glue that holds two families together: my amazing wife, Ashley, and my own mother, Arlene June Mychajliw.
Literally and figuratively, these two “A’s” deserve high marks for the women they are and the great job they did and are doing, guiding and shaping the lives of their respective children.
They are the solid and sturdy backbones of raising children, with both doing so under starkly different circumstances.
My mother, Arlene, was born into horrific circumstances in her formative years. She was abandoned by her birth parents and sent to multiple orphanages and foster homes, where my poor mother was horrifically abused by those who were supposed to love and protect her.
She was a teen runaway. I don’t blame her at all. I can’t imagine the psychological damage done by having the two people who brought her into this world give her up to be raised by someone else, then having those monsters abuse her.
My sweet Mother had no idea how to raise a family, what unconditional love was, or even what a healthy, “normal” family was like. It wasn’t her fault. Life was a constant hustle for basic survival.
She had seven kids with five different men, me being the baby of the family. While we were dirt poor from a purely financial perspective, my mother blessed me with two incredible gifts: encouraging and guiding me to attend Mass and be close to the church, and working incredibly hard in school.
These were the seeds of my professional success, all that I owe to my mother Arlene. Our home life was hell. My biological father was an abusive, raging alcoholic. To protect me from the horrors of home, she asked our parish priest, Fr. Ronald Pecci, to mentor me and take me under his wing. I was an altar server, church lector, and Fr. Ron’s “right-hand man.” His positive, nurturing, and “father figure” influence saved my life. I owe that grace to my Mom.
She also reinforced that education was the great equalizer in life, that in the greatest country in the world, you can achieve anything at all with a solid education.
My mom would always make sure my homework was done first before I was able to go to the neighborhood Boys and Girls Club, another positive escape that kept us off the streets and away from home.
Because of my mom’s love and guidance, I excelled in school, attended and graduated from Syracuse University, and have been blessed beyond belief with a great career in politics and journalism. Words can never describe the level of gratitude I have for my mother, Arlene. She was far from perfect, but did the best she could with what she knew.
I burst with pride, gratitude, and thankfulness when I reflect on the respective childhoods of our three kids, who are home with us: Maksym, Emeryk, and Victoria. The circumstances of their upbringing are the complete opposite of my childhood, with 99.99999% of the credit going to my wife, Ashley.
She’s a loving and caring Social Worker who just has that ingrained “Mom Gene,” much to the benefit of yours truly and our young children.
I swear our great-grandparents back in Ukraine traded goats and cheese many moons ago and arranged our marriage, because I have no idea why she married me.
Ashley ensures the trains run on time in our home, sets strict but necessary boundaries concerning our kids, and showers them with unconditional love while holding our children accountable when needed. If Webster’s Dictionary posted the definition of “perfect mom,” it would be Ashley.
I thank God our kids will never know the struggle of hunger, having to wear hand-me-downs, having utilities shut off, or knowing your parents literally had pennies in their pockets until the next paycheck came around.
“This” is what we all strive for as parents: to provide our children with far better lives than we experienced. That’s also the backbone of the American Dream: that the next generation lives better than the one before them.
No question, my family is living and experiencing that dream, with most thanks due to Ashley.
My mother died suddenly in 2013. Massive heart attack. Was wide awake one minute, died the next. She wasn’t a picture of health, having smoked right up until her last breath. We expected more years with her than what we got.
Even to this day, something happens personally or professionally, and out of habit, I’d think, “I should call Mom….”
My only option for Arlene is prayer. I’d give anything for one more phone call, one more hug, one more conversation, to let her know how much I appreciate her. If your Mom is still with us, tell her you love her and appreciate her every day of the year, not just Mother’s Day.
It’s something I try my best to do with my wife, Ashley.
God bless all Mothers for their selfless sacrifice. May you experience beautiful blessings and joys throughout the year.