When my father took his own life when I was 13 months old, my mother was plunged into single parenthood. I became her priority, to her own detriment.
I was in nursery school in Pretoria when I was maybe 3 or 4 years old. My mother got a phone call from one of the nursery staff, “Mrs. Denton, we are making Fathers’ Day cards today. We know Dawn does not have a father. What would you like us to do with her?”
My mom’s reply was simply, “Let her make it for me!”.
Being a mother and father
And from that moment, my mother became my mother AND my father. A role she took very seriously. And the lucky lady got a Mothers’ Day and a Fathers’ Day gift and card every year. But she deserved that, and more.
Teresa Denton was a Community Health Nurse. She had moved out of working in hospital wards and into local health care to keep her working hours ‘normal’ so that childcare was easier. This meant I spent 5 days a week with babysitters, at nursery school, at an after-school care centre, and at friends’ houses. The evenings and weekends were for us, no matter how exhausted mom was.
We did homework together, read to each other, cooked, and enjoyed a slab of chocolate at 7:30pm during the evening comedy show on TV and we laughed together. I was the most important person in mom’s life, and she mine. We were a duo.
Mom and I were very attached
But, mom knew that we needed to slacken the ‘cord’ that connected us, and she made the very brave decision to send me to boarding school. I wanted to go too, so this was an easier decision for me than for her. But it gave me an opportunity to thrive and worked out a lot cheaper for mom to have me at boarding school than having me at home. And I adored my time at Girls’ High! I do know mom did suffer and was incredibly lonely.
When I decided to travel abroad on a 2-year work visa, mom encouraged me by taking out a bank loan to pay for my ticket. “There is no future for you in South Africa, Dawn.”
We did not always get on
Mom and I did clash a lot. This was not because we had similar personalities, but I believe, because we were so different. And I think possibly because I felt a little overwhelmed by her focus on me and my life. She was not overbearing at all. That was not in her nature. But every decision she made put me in the centre. And as I got older, I felt more and more responsible for mom’s happiness. And this really made me uncomfortable.
I remember many outbursts growing up. Some I used to deliberately hurt her. I know I did that. And these, I deeply regret. She was on her own, struggling to keep food on the table, working long hours, and sacrificing her own happiness for me. As an only child, I felt incredibly alone too. I did not have a sibling to support me by pointing out my own failings in being a better daughter.
My personal vow
And so I vowed I would never have just one child. I would not ever want to put a child in this position.
One evening mom asked me to get a jersey from her cupboard in her room. I was so annoyed, “I can’t wait to have my own children so they can be MY slaves.”
But that sadly did not happen. I have no idea why, but I have never conceived. I spent my 30s in a relationship with a man who did not want children. Although he broke up with me, I think the pressure of my ‘biological clock’ tipped us both over the edge. In the first part of my 40s, I spent a lot of money on fertility supplements (without my other half knowing). But, I was very conscious that he already had adult children and so I hoped I would fall pregnant, but I wasn’t ‘doing what it takes’ to make it happen.
Behind the scenes, I shed many tears. Over 10 years later and I still do. At times it was usual to go to sleep and wake up with a wet pillow. Even this blog post is being written through tears. I accepted that I was just not fertile (for whatever reason) and that I was never meant to be a mother. But I feel so much heartache when I think about what I have missed out on. And that my primal reason for being on this earth has not been fulfilled.
Being a mother
I often reflect on the person I am, analyse my personality and observe my friends who are parents. On reflection, I think the Universe did the right thing by not making me a mother. The way I would have wanted to parent would not have sat well in the world we live in today – loving, fun-filled, and caring, but importantly traditional, strict, and structured. And I see the modern world the children themselves have to navigate, and that petrifies me. I cannot imagine the fear that guides parenting today.
When I got the call that my mother had died, I felt deeply responsible, “If I had given her grandchildren, she would have fought harder to live.” I do believe she gave up, and for that I blame myself.
What mom taught me
If you asked me what I learned from my mother, I could not list them all. Although there are so many times in conversation when making decisions and considering options, lessons from mom pop up. I should start to document them.
It would be really very easy to list the many things I miss about my mom, even after almost 10 years without her. What I do know is that she was always incredibly proud of me, provided every opportunity for me to grow as a human being, and gave me a strong sense of being an independent woman.
I will admit that I still struggle to find my purpose in this world. Having children gives us a reason for being, and a drive to achieve, even if only for their sake. Being childless often feels like a heavy burden, a failure, and a waste of global resources.
But that is something I need to deal with.
