A Bit of Backstory

My knee-jerk opener to this entry would be, "So sorry to have taken this long to update," but you know what? You are a Mom too, and you'd probably understand that my son's three-sleepless-night battle with teething pain let the wind out of my blogger sails. So, I'm not sorry. Momming happens.

While my blog update schedule has not followed its intended course, my update topic still can. If you'll humor me, I think it's important to share with you a bit about what has made me who I am today, so that if you choose to read my future updates, you'll have some context. 

The basics? 

Hi there. I'm Cathlene, a 25 year old wife and mom of an 8.5 month old little boy. 

I live in Switzerland, supporting my husband (who I met via arranged marriage within my faith of the Unification Church - but that's another story) in his path as a med-student, but I grew up in Northern New Jersey with my Mom and my special needs older brother. 

Hm. The basics are already pretty complicated. But that's true of everyone in some way.

I was raised in the deeply supportive, nurturing nest my Mom painstakingly built for her children. Despite being thrown challenge after challenge - being told as a child that she had no professional future, dropping out of high school, giving birth to a child with Down's Syndrome, and her husband suddenly passing away - she always managed to keep this glowing ember of hope inside her, and it filled my life with warmth and optimism. She taught me to stay mindful of life's small beauties, yet she always encouraged me to have big ambitions, even if they weren't lucrative. Her steadfast support followed me through my love of horses, through theatre, through non-profit performing arts-based HIV education, to film, to... whatever it is I'm doing now.

I was on the fast track to a life of creative altruism, double majoring in Communications and Global Peace & Justice Studies in hopes of harnessing the arts and the media to create peace. Just months after obtaining my degrees, my Mom suddenly passed away, following my late father of 20 years to heaven. I was left responsible for my brother. A couple of months after that, my husband and I found out we were expecting our first child. Somewhere in this whirlwind of sudden adulthood, I lost my space to dream. Dreaming felt stupid, because I was sure to be disappointed somehow, either by the realities of life or by my own thoughts of inadequacy. 

It's not to say that my new role as a caretaker has killed my dreams. No way. Au contraire, being a parent has unearthed emotions I never before felt, whether it was helping my brother to mourn our Mom in his own way, or hearing my son laugh for the first time. My library of inspiration is volumes richer. 

That being said, it's tough to greet each day with the same vigor as before my abrupt end of childhood and beginning of parenthood. 

My husband pushes me to continue following my dreams, but his goals surpass mine in their immediacy and need for support themselves. After all, someone's got to take care of the baby, and the house, and my brother's wellbeing, and money certainly doesn't grow on trees. And yet, there's still this beast clawing at me from inside, desperate to re-inject me with passion, and for me to inject others too, so we can make things genuinely better here on earth. Daily life can be so smothering though, and I don't know how to escape it.

My mom's final birthday gift to me was a writing kit. She believed I had stories inside me that the world needed to hear. I don't want to let her, or the world, down.

So there you have it.