Thursday night I fell asleep in my childhood home listening to the sound of my mom's voice reading Charlotte's web to Luca. I was home to attend a funeral. A dear friend just lost her mom, a lovely lady whom I've always admired. As I drifted off to sleep that night I felt so blessed to have my mom. So blessed that my children have her too. And as I laid there thinking about my mom, and all that she's done for the five of us, I realized that her work isn't done. It will never be done. She hasn't finished raising me yet.
My mom still raises me every day.
Sometimes she simply has to lift my spirits when I'm down. Or give me the motivation to be a little more or try a little harder. She still knows how to calm my worries better than anyone. And I still have so much to learn from her about life, and about being a mother. I can always call her for advice about anything. (And with five of us doing that all day long I don't know how she gets any work done on her job. Yet, she manages to keep the NAVY up and running and equipped with supplies.)
Being a mom has raised lots of questions and challenges for me, but it has helped me to understand one thing a little more clearly. Love. Now that I have my own little ones I understand what my mom (and dad) felt for me all those years. I understand what motivation lay behind all her actions and governed all her choices. And even though I may have disagreed with her at times, and scorned at answers like, "It's for your own good," or "you'll understand someday." I know she's right.
I can remember a specific conversation we must have had a hundred times.
Mom: Take your sweatshirt.
Me: I don't need it. It's hot.
Mom: Just take it. It gets cold at night.
Me: Whatever. (Grabbing said sweatshirt with grunt and roll of the eyes.)
Mom: You'll thank me later.
Yes, Mom. You were right. Even if I didn't always need the sweatshirt, and sometimes I refused to put it on even when I was cold. Just out of pride. You were right about one thing. I would thank you later. Maybe 15 or 20 years later, but better late than never.
So, Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I love you.
1 comment:
Dear Daughter Joanie - I have read and re-read your beautiful comments re: my mothering, ...and the part about taking your sweatjacket for those cool eveings. I graciously & humbly accept your "thanks" and "praise". It was a supreme pleasure to have raised you 5 children. You've all grown up to be amazingly independent, sure-footed, high-valued adults. I am SO proud. It is the ultimate reward, ...to just sit back and watch you 5 in action. Love You Forever, Mom Mom
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