My Mom

As Mother's Day approaches, my thoughts go to my mom.
My mother wasn't a sweet-talking touchy-feely kind of woman.  We didn't bake brownies together or hug endlessly, yet I always knew that she was behind me all the way.  It was the way of the world back then.  Children were expected to entertain themselves while the mother kept the home and the father brought home the bacon.  I did...and they did.  All was right with my world.  I'm not pretending that we were an invincible family.  Only that everyone knew their role and fulfilled it to the best of their ability.

My mother, like her mother before her, was a practical person.  She never broke down in front of us kids.  She never gave us a reason to be insecure.

Once, in junior high, I was faced with an assignment to create a to-scale model of a house.  I had already seen some of the other kids' submissions and just knew I couldn't do it.  At the last minute, I was in despair...giving up...ready to take an F in Unified Arts...but Mom understood that all I really needed was a cheerleader.  She stopped everything in her life to be that cheerleader.  I got it done by the deadline (barely), and didn't get a desired grade on it...but I didn't care about the grade.  I got it done, thanks to Mom who literally just sat there with me while I worked, virtually holding my hand.  It was all I needed.

Another time, during the summer between my junior and senior year of college, I was wanting to break up with a fiance' who was choking the life out of me.  Mom didn't like the guy but never passed judgment.  (I could just tell...as can we all when dealing with our parents.)  One evening, I confessed to her that I had doubts.  Her comment to me was, "Do you know what you want to do?"  Yes...I want to break up.  To which she responded, "Then you know what you HAVE to do."  And that's all it took to give me the courage to do it!

There were a few times in life when I wanted a softer mother.  Basically, if I was throwing up, I was scared and crying.  Mom asked me why I was crying.  I didn't know!  Because I was scared? Scared of what?  I was given lots of sympathetic attention but never sympathy for merely crying.

And when I became a mother--because we all eventually become our mothers, don't we?--I behaved as Mom did.  I wanted my daughter to be self-confident and independent.  I tried to make her strong, but I've often wondered if I missed the mark.  I was compensating for her lack of a father.  We had many good times and some really devastatingly bad ones.  Sometimes, late at night when I should be sleeping, I am thinking about how much I wish I had hugged her more...told her that I loved her more...made her understand how very much she is my life.  She is experiencing motherhood problems of her own now, and all I want to do is tell her that she is doing well and that, no matter her "sins", her children will bless her, as I do.

My sister told me recently in a crisis situation that she had missed opportunities to "be there" for her daughters due to many years of keeping her husband happy.  I understood.  I had also made efforts so that my husband wasn't inconvenienced  by our daughter's needs.  Wish I had those years to live over again!

Unfortunately, motherhood provides the guilt that, like the Hallmark ad, "keeps on giving".  After I became a mother and was complaining to Mom about my lot in life, her response was, "What makes you think that you are any better than the rest of us mothers?"

And so it is.  Happy Mother's Day!