In the kitchen this morning I’m surrounded by flowers and greeting cards. Not for ME, mind you, but for my wife, who is “sleeping in”…one of the very few days of the year when she can.
I’m thinking of my own mom this morning who died many years ago after a wonderful life, but whose memory lives on in many ways. As I reflect on the relationship we had as she (and my dad too of course) raised me; as I see her genes in my own children and now grandchildren, both physically and in terms of temperament and personality; as I see her in parenting behavior that I to this day find myself duplicating…I can’t help but be eternally grateful.
If you looked up the word “saint” in the dictionary, you’ll see my mom’s picture next to the definition. You’re thinking, “everyone thinks their mom is/was a saint.” Not true, at least not anymore, I’m afraid.
Because part of the mother-child relationship is situational. And with divorce, out-of-wedlock and single parenting rates continuing to skyrocket, and traditional families continuing to break down, for many, what I had growing up has vanished, and never will be. It’s terribly terribly sad.
Standing at the greeting card rack the other day I saw the changing role of moms reflected in the brightly colored, category-labeled array before me. “To Mom from the Step Kids”, “To Mom from Sister/Brother”, “To Mom from the Dog(s), Cat(s), Goldfish”, “To Mom from Wife”, etc. (I double took on that last one, but it was a big section…hard to miss). I didn’t see a section labeled “To My Moms”, but I’m sure it was there as well.
My mom was a stay-at-home, manage the household and her children mom. She selflessly catered to my dad’s and her children’s needs and whims. Chef, chauffeur, therapist, disciplinarian, coach, consoler, nurse (and EMT), social director, cub scout den mother, music teacher, manners guardian, PTA President, art director, arbitrator, elegant party planner and hostess, maid, laundress, animal trainer, guardian, intercessor (both with God AND my father!), referee, and on and on – she did it all.
She led a busy life. Never did she complain about not having enough of this or that. She was patient, and kind, and almost always cheerful. I don’t recall her ever complaining about being sick, or having to drive me to school when I missed the bus. The “wrapped in her arms” image comes to mind when I think of my mom.
I’m grateful I’m a hybrid of my mom and my dad. My dad was a product-of-the-depression, self-educated and self-made, self-reliant, kick-butt-and-take-names, black-and-white, right-and-wrong, no-nonsense patriarch who was and always will be a giant to me. So sometimes that gentlewoman comes out in a softer side of me even as I grow ever more into an “old, angry white guy”.
Much has been written about the changing nature of moms and families. And I could spend the rest of this post railing against the impact, mostly detrimental, those changes are having on our society. I’ll do so in different post.
But today I just want to celebrate my own mom and express the hope that despite all that’s different in today’s world, children and grandchildren will be able to experience the warmth, support..in short, the LOVE, that my mom gave me.
I miss you mom. Rest in peace.
