Caring for four little girls was a full time job for my mother. Add to that a husband whose job as a minister left little time at the end of the day for family, and you wonder how she had time to do so many thoughtful things for us. Saving cereal boxtops to redeem for not one, not two, but three baby dolls for Christmas…then making clothes and bedding for the dolls. (Dad, bless him, carpentered the doll beds!) Allowing us to pick the patterns and the fabric then sewing our dresses late in the evenings. Granting decorating license for our bedrooms…I’m still living down the black and white eye-poppin’ psychedelic wallpaper I chose for my room in 1972. Wearing cotton in her ears while we played our albums a little too loudly, instead of making us turn down the volume. (C’mon, Mom, just how awful were The Carpenters?)
Thank you, Mom, for putting up with the stubborn willfulness that drove you crazy as a young mother. I’d like to forget the many times I provoked you to a most unhappy “end”…mine!
There’s the time that I insisted on sitting on top of the coffee table to listen to you read a story to me and my sisters…breaking a decorative dish in the process, and then cutting a gash in one knee when I insisted on “helping” to clean up my mess. Or the time I thought it would be great to see what a wad of bubblegum would do pressed between the pages of a coloring book; wonder how it ended up in my hair? Then there was my 5-years-old birthday party, when I refused to come out of my bedroom to play with my guests, all because a neighbor boy offended me some way. As an adolescent, there was the time I gave a dramatic reading at a family gathering in our home…from your diary as a young engaged woman. Have you forgiven me yet?
But no matter how many headaches and heartaches I gave you, you gave me the things that made me who I am today. Thank you, Mom, for: Teaching me to laugh at myself. Giving me confidence in myself, and courage to insist on justice for others. Teaching me how to pray. Giving me and my sisters a love for travel and the ability to put down roots anywhere. Showing me, through your actions, what faith really is. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!
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| Miami, Florida circa 1961 -- Mom teaching me (left) and my sister Patti to say grace before a Thanksgiving meal. |
This is a beautiful post, Kate! :) It sounds like your Mom was a sincerely wonderful woman! I'm happy to hear that you were allowed to pick your own crazy black and white wallpaper, haha. It hits home actually because for the longest time I was upset with my Mom for allowing me to pick out my own colored carpeting when I was only in elementary school. The result was me living with bright (very) Pink carpeting until my college years... until they eagerly ripped it out and replaced it with wood floors. haha. Anyway, in so many ways, I loved reading your post just now. It sounds like you had a great relationship with your Mom. I wish her a Happy Mother's Day, too!
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