Thoughts on Mom at Mother’s Day time, what I know now about her.
Last year I posted here about being a Mother’s Day hater. And it’s still true, I’ve never been much on the day as it’s always felt a bit forced, and then it only got worse when my mother died. Then I really saw the pain of the endless ads saying we should all buy our mom a gift, take her to lunch, get her flowers, etc it all became too much. But this year I’m purposing to think of my mother with a different emphasis and wanted to share and hope others will join in.
So what I know now about my mother—each time I admired a pretty dress as a child and she’d take a notecard out of her purse and draw the dress while standing in the store, then take me to pick out fabric, and recreate the dress, it wasn’t because of her love of sewing, it was because she didn’t have money for the dress, but she’d never tell me that. Each time she had holes in her fingers from making clothes for my Barbies, those tiny clothes, she never mentioned the holes, because she wanted my Barbies to have a full wardrobe. When she told me that there was a time to clean house and a more important time to go outside and plant flowers, it was the best advice ever. When “Captain Kangaroo” would ask on the TV if I’d had a breakfast she’d say he should mind his own business. She always would laugh until she cried, and that’s a good way to laugh. She had deep gratitude for everything she had, being born during the Depression left an imprint that never went away. When I was a sullen middle schooler, she told me she loved me but didn’t like me, I used those same words on my own middle schoolers. What I was dating an obvious loser she told me she was scared I’d marry him, I laughed. Little did I know she was literally praying him away. She wasn’t perfect, she allowed us to see her flaws and mistakes. But now I know that her children were her biggest joy, her biggest heartaches, and her life’s work. And I’m still benefiting as are my children from her lessons.
And a side note, one lesson learned on AC for me is that so many have experienced mothers who brought them pain. And for that I’m truly sorry, everyone deserves better. I wish you healing.
I would enjoy hearing what others know about their mom’s that they didn’t realize before.
I just signed in to tell you that this sentence really touched me deep in my heart.
It is the best description of a Mother I have ever read, and so, so true.
I came on this site because of what I was enduring with my mother and her aging process. Since being here I have come to appreciate my mother more. No she was not the mother I would have preferred yet I guess she did the best she could under many circumstances. Her own mother could be very difficult and when her parents divorced when she was a teenager she ended up with a very stern stepmother.
She was a serious ballerina and had me take classes as a child. I chose not to continue after a few years which I regret to this day. I wouldn't have wanted to be a professional dancer but I wish I could have learned more. A certain amount has been retained and is noticed in certain types of exercise classes I take which is why I yearn to have achieved more. It was sad to me later when I realized that she was clueless as to other abilities I had such as running track. My parents never encouraged that nor do I recall them ever going to any track meets I participated in.
By around the age of 10 my mother entered into a period of depression that would take hold at intervals. She eventually stopped all dancing which had included teaching and spent long intervals in bed. She discovered Christian Science. We all suffered. I was never treated by a doctor for any ailments and she postponed hip and knee surgeries for ages. When my 3 children were born in the 1980's she could only marginally watch them and never as infants. She could not hold them unless seated and not alone. She eventually had hip and knee surgeries in the 1990's when she became almost completely immobile and it was clear that no amount of praying would solve the problems there.
Fast forward to the present day. She resides in AL. A fall precipated that after excessive bleeding from a colonoscopy because she had forgotten to stop taking the blood thinner before. She had suffered an eschemic stroke some 6 months before. She was trying to have a Christian Science practioner heal that. We insisted she go to the hospital. When she was hedging on that she was told by a medical practice she had started to deal with they would completely release her as a patient if she did not comply. As you might imagine all of this became very emotionally exhausting for me. The practioner she was having heal her has since died of cancer.
On the positive front. She now takes a host of medication which is keeping her alive. She is grateful to me for what I do and oversee for her. She only has a kind word or expression to convey. She loves her grandchildren and great grandchildren. I don't think I can expect more presently. I shudder when I read some stories presented here and I feel greatly for those dealing with such. There were times in the past I would have preferred a more hands on mother but presently I certainly am glad to be spared what others are enduring.
Happy Mother's Day to all those who can find joy as mothers and having mothers.
She and dad made sure that we went to college and she loved my children as her own.
She was one of my very best friends. She was so important to my girls.
The dementia at the end closed her world into a smaller circle. She couldn’t see beyond her needs very often. But I know that she appreciated all that my brother, myself and the helpers that we hired did for her.
She was a woman that achieved so much, she was admired in her small community and I am very proud of her.
A loving caring mom is a very special thing. I was very blessed to have her in my life.
This isn't about my mother (still alive, at MC, 96 yo), but it is something I hope I never forget!
One time, long ago, while driving and chatting with my son (about 7 at the time), somehow the topic got onto being angry and he said "Sometimes I am really mad at you and don't even like you, but I'll never stop loving you!" I told him to never forget that either - it IS what matters!
This from a little boy who early on didn't have much to say, took a long time to really talk (his finger, about 7-8 words and his older sister would get him what he wanted!), but clearly the wheels were turning and making some fine brain cells!
I agree, what you wrote was a very touching tribute to your mother. Sometimes it does take stepping back and refocusing on the things that really matter. A "perfect" mom probably exists somewhere, but the definition of perfect can be so different for everyone. We might have seen someone else's mom as perfect, but her children might think she is an ogre (and she very well might be - what people do when others are around can be so different from what goes on behind closed doors!) The saddest compliment I ever got was from a friend of my daughter. She told me she wished I was her mother...
The best we can do is figure out what the best parts of our mom (or dad) are and use those to form ourselves and raise our own kids. Discard the things you don't care for or are hurtful. That's what I did. I didn't want to repeat the things my parents did/said that I found very hurtful and unnecessary.
I also agree that reading some of the recollections on this forum can make our own experiences seem benign! Our negative experiences are still a part of us, but given that it could have been much worse, perhaps we can learn to put those aside and move on.
I can't say enough about how I also agree with the feelings about the need to follow corporate dictates regarding honoring anyone or observing various "special" days. When my daughter was about 3, she picked a handful of those tiny little flowers that sprout in the yard and brought them to me. I told her those meant more to me than any bunch of flowers, cards or gifts you can buy, especially on those "days." These were not for any day, just because. That means they are from the heart and mean so much. Anyone can read the ads and hear announcements that it is such and such a day and we should do X, Y, Z because it is. Phooey on that! If someone thanks me or just wants to be with me just because, that makes it ALL worth it!
Much later, when my daughter was late teens and working, she brought a card, flowers and a balloon for some such day. That's how much it meant - I don't even recall what "day" it was. Birthday? Mother's Day? Who knows. I thanked her, but said really I don't need this and would rather you save your hard earned money for yourself. A simple visit, share some good times together, etc would be enough for me, and make sure it is ANY day, not those that some advertiser says you should do it! She told me her dad asked her if she got something for me (we were long divorced) and I told her she should say she has it covered! Not lying, it is the truth, it just doesn't have to be something purchased!
May most every day be a Happy Mother's (or Father's) day for everyone! I say most because into every life a little rain has to fall....
I began to realize there was more to my mother than I had previously thought years ago when I heard my mother’s words coming out of my mouth when correcting or advising my children. I remember thinking, “Oh, my gosh, I’m channeling my mother!” “And it’s good stuff!”. This happened several times over the years, and I realized that I was glad that I had internalized some good things from her.
I am one of those “lucky to be alive” stories you read about, though some had it a lot worse than I. My mother suffered from what is now called Bipolar Disorder for as long as I remember. We used to call it nervous breakdowns and then learned the medical diagnosis was manic-depression. Whatever the name, at least a couple times a year my mother would go from being a funny, nurturing, loving mother to someone I didn’t recognize. It happened slowly until the episode reached a crescendo of wild, violent, and aberrant behavior that culminated in a hospitalization in a psychiatric ward. I at turns loved her fiercely and hated her. Since this is about mothers, I won’t even get into father issues.
My daughter told me recently that for all I suffered (and still do) growing up with such a mother, she was the mother God had in store for me, and she helped to make me the woman I am today, and for that she was very grateful. What can you say to that?
I have come to realize that my mother was a miracle. That she functioned as well as she did given her illness is amazing! Psychiatric medicine was really still in its infancy. She took many medications which would work for a while (until they didn't) or she would stop taking them for whatever reason. She also endured several shock treatments (the kind like in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest). When she was well, she cooked, and sewed, and gardened and organized a family of seven. She brought us to church, and prayed and sang to us at night. She made sure we learned to swim and went to school and had piano lessons. She made sure we went to the dentist regularly and took us to the dermatologist when our face broke out as teenagers. I never, ever doubted that she loved us. I just never knew how long “good mother” would last.
My mother, who never went to college, is a natural linguist. Born in Panama, she learned English as a teenager. Several years ago, I found my oldest brother’s baby book that she had filled in. At 19, she had only been speaking English for a few years, but the vocabulary and grammar were flawless (much better than the high school students I was currently teaching who had been speaking and writing English all their lives!), and her handwriting was so elegant. She had, and still has, a very advanced vocabulary. When my father was stationed in France, she picked up French so quickly that she could haggle with the vendors in the marketplace!
She now resides in a nursing home, and this morning I went to visit her. I set up her Mother’s Day gift, a bird feeder hung from a shepherd’s hook outside her window. I set up my folding chair in the shade and we had a wonderful visit. She reminded me that in 1958 God gave me to her on Mother’s Day. She sang me Happy Birthday. It was such a great visit. For the last month, she was mentally very unwell, but today was good, and I am grateful.