It eventually happens to all women. One day, in a moment of stark realization, we take a look at ourselves and say, "Oh no! I've become my mother!" That's not always such a bad thing. I mean, I loved my mother dearly. I didn't particular want to look like her, though (which I do); yet, my acknowledgment of becoming my mother wasn't so much about the way I looked. It was about the way I acted. My sister and I long ago accepted that we are the way we are because of the unwitting influence that our mother and her mother before her had on us. We come from a long line of strong women who just dug in and did what they had to do to make things work for their families. How much of that is in the genes and how much is in the raising, I don't know, but here I am on Mother's Day of 2016, remembering my mother and some of her favorite sayings that sometimes drove me nuts as a kid.
Some of my favorites, none of which are Mom Originals:
I have eyes in the back of my head. That was Mom's response when we thought we had gotten away with something, but somehow, Mom knew what we had done. How did she know? She had eyes in the back of her head!
If you don't stop crying, I'll give you something to cry about. To my childish mind, that was the dumbest thing I thought she should say. I already had something to cry about or I wouldn't be crying, right? Of course, it was her way of saying that I was weeping piteously over nothing important. She saw it as manipulation to get my own way. Ha! I wanted a horse. I wanted a horse RIGHT NOW. Surely she could see how important it was to me. I was crying about it!
Because I said so! I was a typical kid in that I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it, and I wanted it now. Regularly, when I was denied something that I thought was reasonable, I immediately asked "Why??" And regularly, my mother answered, "Because I said so." The message was clear that I should not be questioning her authority, but my brain didn't think that was a good enough reason. She knew that engaging in further conversation about it would be unproductive, but I always tried to push it. (Don't we all?) It was my first lesson in being a kid. Whether I liked it or not, my parents were in control, no matter how much I whined. That didn't stop me from trying, but I figured out soon enough that I was better off not arguing...because in the process of arguing, I was bound to make Mom angry. I couldn't stand that!
You don't pay for your raising 'til you have kids of your own. Ahhh...the Curse of Motherhood! It's akin to "what goes around, comes around". I didn't use this one with my daughter so much, but I did tell her several times that I hoped she had six kids and that they were all just like her. Then, and only then, might she come to appreciate what I did for her. I think that was what Mom was trying to say.
Three moves is as good as a fire. This is in reference to the damage done to personal effects as a result of changing homes. Mom was a Navy Wife. She knew what she was talking about! I am never quite as embarrassed as when my furnishings are moved into the light of day to show what bad shape they are in!
A pint's a pound the world around. Oh, how very many times have I run that little ditty through my head when making measuring conversions. Thanks, Mom!
Well, I'll be damned! Okay...I just threw this one in here. My mother never swore--at least not in front of us kids, even after we became adults. This one sticks with me, however, because it was uttered on November 24, 1963, when all the world was focused on the funeral ceremonies of President Kennedy, and the newsflash on the TV said the suspected assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, had just been shot in Dallas. I was a teenager and somewhat shocked by her obvious dismay. He deserved it, didn't he? She said, "Now we'll never know." And she was right.
It's hell to get old. Mom never complained about how she felt unless we asked, so I never quite understood where she was coming from. I get it now, Mom!
If you know what you want to do, you know what you have to do. That gave me courage more than once to face things I didn't want to face.
You aren't going to like this, but... Every time Mom hit me with this one, I knew she was about to tell me something she thought I would reject. The first time was when I was pregnant and I complained that my ankles were swelling. "You aren't going to like this, but you need to lay off the salt." The next time she said it was many years later. "You aren't going to like this, but I am giving my sterling silverware to your sister." She was right on the former but wrong on the latter. I DID object to her giving my sister the sterling for the reason she stated--"you got the college education that she didn't get"--but quite okay with her having the silver for any other reason. My sister didn't want a four-year college education. If she had, my parents would gladly have paid for it. My whole logic was that Shari should have the silver simply because Mom wanted her to have it, not as some guilt gift! You're not going to like this, Mom, but Shari has never, ever, exhibited a shred of jealousy about my college education, and I have never, ever, felt the least bit jealous that she has the Royal Danish silver!
But I digress. On this Mother's Day, I miss my mom--as I do every day. She passed away suddenly in 1986, when I was 39--way too young to lose my mother. I confess that, a short time after we buried her in that quiet old cemetery, I went alone to visit her grave. I stood over that spot knowing that she was a scant six feet below me, recognizing that I would claw my way down to her if I thought I could, just for one more hug. One more sound of her voice. I wept in raw grief and was grateful there was no one else to witness it. Then I did as my mother would have done: I pulled myself together, got in the car, and left.
All the mom-isms in the world, I got from her. I am no longer worried about how much I am like my mother. Happy Mother's Day in Heaven, Mom!
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