Mom Was Always There For Me
I’m thinking warm and fuzzy thoughts of my mother tonight.
I remember her rocking me and singing me my favorite songs until surely her throat was sore from the effort. I remember her putting pin curls in my hair at night so I would have pretty hair in the morning. I remember her making home made bread, tapioca pudding, delicious home made cakes and cookies, and yummy dinners. I remember mother handing out our Saturday work lists and that we all got busy and did our work early in the day so our home would be clean for Sunday. I remember mother washing stacks and stacks of clothes every Saturday and hanging them out on the clothesline. I remember mother taking care of me when I was sick with fevers. I remember he feeling bad with me when as a teenager I had boyfriend problems. When she was older (and I was older) she became even more perfect.
What I don’t remember are the times mother probably hopes I don’t remember … except, of course, the funny times. Those we all remember!
Sometimes my daughters, who have large families of their own, tell me how guilty they feel because they were short tempered with their children all day. Kimberly had several hard days in a row once and was so discouraged because she felt like such a horrible mother. I felt prompted to ask her:
“How do you remember me?”
“What do you mean,” she asked in return.
“Do you remember me yelling at you and making you cry, feeling like I didn’t have time for you?” I asked.
“You didn’t yell at us, Mom. That’s the point. You played with us and helped us with our school projects, let us cook with you in the kitchen, playing games and we sang and laughed while we did it. You never treated us like I treated my kids today!” she said almost in tears.
I almost fell off my chair because my jaw dropped so far down when she told me that. She doesn’t remember the times I yelled at them? She doesn’t remember me as someone who dreaded making cut out cookies and frosting them because there would be such a mess to clean up afterwards and I would have to listen to five kids scream and laugh and knock things over for more than an hour in the kitchen? She can’t remember the Saturday nights when I would be in tears because the kids wouldn’t take their baths and the house still wasn’t cleaned and tomorrow was early morning church? Somebody must have put a spell on her! I remember so many nights going in to check on my children when they were asleep and shedding a silent tear that I hadn’t spent more time with them, listened more carefully to what they had to say, praised them more, and not used my outside voice trying to get them to clean their rooms.
Just for kicks, I asked my other daughter, Angi, what she remembered and she laughed and said, “Well, there was that time you threw your diet coke on Ryan one splash at a time when you were fed up, but I don’t remember you getting mad at us and yelling a lot. I remember you as always being there when I needed you.” I sighed a big sigh of relief at this point. My kids don’t remember!
I almost hesitate to write about this for fear they will go back in their memories and try to remember! Don’t do it kids! Keep thinking good thoughts!
Remember that old “I hope you grow up and have kids that are just like you,” curse mothers have thrown at their children for hundreds of years? We all know that works! Maybe there is some magical formula out there that also floats over children as they sleep and settles into their little brains that makes them think their mother’s are perfect. Either that, or there is something else magical that happens when our children turn into parents that makes them forget. Whatever it is! I am grateful for it!
I don’t remember the things my mother didn’t do for me or the times she lost her temper or the times she might not have been there when I went to bed. I remember that she was perfect. So daughters and daughters in law and mothers everywhere … quit feeling guilty that you don’t have more hours in the day or that you got grouchy or tired or that your house wasn’t as clean as you wanted it to be or that you fed them peanut butter sandwiches for Sunday dinner. They aren’t going to remember you for that anyway! They are going to think you were perfect! Take it from one who knows!
Happy Mother’s Day!
Cute post. I agree that moms need to accept all the praise of mother’s day and leave behind any guilt!!
Very nice post. My 33 year old daughter gave me a Mother’s Day card yesterday and it had hand written a message.
This year I want to give you something you have always asked for “A full day where everybody gets along.” That is something my four children heard out of my mouth every year around Mother’s Day when they would ask me what I wanted for Mother’s Day.
All of my grown children laughed when I read it aloud then my son popped up and told his sister to “Shut Up”! (which they were not allowed to say growing up) which only increased the laughter and the sweetness of the memory.
Isn’t that the truth? Back then a day with no fights was worth gold! Your kids sound fun.
I loved reading about your mom. This Mother’s Day was the 8th anniversary of my mom’s death, so it was a bittersweet day. I do remember some times when she lost her temper because I was a soft-hearted, not particularly bold child. But I have many more wonderful memories. When we were taking turns ironing in the hot summer time, and she’d let my sister and me go to the store for cold Dr. Peppers. When she helped me make a coconut pie from scratch, and I dropped it as I was putting it in the oven, so she helped me make another one. When we’d work in the flower bed, and she would teach me the names of all the flowers. And so many more.