I began life with an advantage many people don’t get.
I have the best mom. Ever.
My earliest memories include my mom, singing as she swept the kitchen floor.
“When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother what will I be.” That’s the song I hear in my head as the memory replays for me. She sang often.
She sang quietly, somehow believing she didn’t have much of a voice, but still she sang. She sang well and I loved to hear it. It so reflected who she was then and continues to be: unassuming, soft spoken, gentle, and content with her life. Always serving and taking care of her family without complaint or giving us a feeling that she wished for something different.
“Will I be pretty, will I be rich,”
She was. She is.
Mom is the fourth child of of seven that lived to adulthood. Intelligent, but unsure of herself academically she was the only one not to go to college. Because of that she tended to be hard on herself, thinking she was somehow not as smart as others. Over the years she would work as a teacher, a medical records clerk, at hospital billing, and excelled at all of them. No one in their right mind could accuse her of not being one bright cookie.
Her home was always well kept, her family fed delicious and nutritious meals, and still she had enough energy to give each of her four kids the love and attention we needed, always making it look like it was easy and natural. Ah! To have that talent!
I don’t remember my mom ever spanking me. I’m sure she did, she had no qualms about corporal punishment. I just don’t remember any time she did. I guess the ones I got I fully deserved, so promptly forgot them. I have very few memories of her getting mad. Oh, I do remember a quick smack on the mouth, sudden and very startling considering how out of character it was, each of these an immediate response to me speaking disrespectfully, talking back.
We could talk about anything with her and she would listen, not ever giving us a feeling that we were dumb or bad. She listened and gave good feedback, but rude and disrespectful speech she found intolerable. It only took that one brief reminder and I, with a sting in my lips, was immediately sorry and checked my attitude. Mom loved us. We never doubted it, and couldn’t stand the idea of hurting her.
My mom was (is) pretty and rich. We might have lived pinching pennies, but she said she was rich because she had us. We knew that’s what she honestly felt.
“Here’s what she said to me, ‘Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be’.”
Another memory of mom I treasure is that of walking by her room at night and seeing her kneeling beside her bed praying. How many of those prayers were for me? I suspect more than a few. I’m sure she still prays for me often. It’s the way she lives.
Life hasn’t been all too easy for mom. She experienced more than her share of pain and disappointment. Still, she meets all of life the same way: quietly and contentedly, always helping wherever she can, unassuming, determined. Praying. Trusting God with her life and ours.
“The future’s not ours to see. Que sera, sera.”
No worries. God sees the future.
See? I told you I started life with an advantage many don’t get. I still have it. I love you mom. Thanks for teaching me to love, to work hard, to be content and trust God. Thanks for giving me confidence to dream and do my best.
You are the best.