The second woman who I''m quite sure I don''t deserve yet God gifted me anyway is my mom. She is my rock: always giving, always there for me. She was a great mom at every stage in my life even though she had to deal with a few major obstacles along the way.
In fact, when my husband and I talk about fellowship locations, the single biggest draw for me in Southern Ohio is my mom. This is in spite of the fact that I have a lot back in Southern Ohio: a history, friends, family, etc. Still, she is the single biggest reason that I want to be there. She is retiring next year, so maybe we can get her to join us wherevever we go. If I can secure this promise from her and Sean, I think that I can be happy almost anywhere. Hell, we''ve done it this long.
It is not just for me. I want her to know my kids as intimately as possible. She is an exceptional grandparent too.
I have gone through the full range of emotions where she is concerned. With the egocentricity of most children, as a child, I just assumed that everyone had this kind of love and attention and that this is the way things were. It is only through the filters of adulthood that I realize how extraordinary she was to me. She worked full time before formal daycare. She had a highschool degree and yet managed to produce two college graduates. She''s never been out of the country, yet I have traveled to 44 countries on 5 continents. She devoted her whole life to us with great pleasure yet there was no sense of self-sacrifice or unhappiness on her part. She loved giving to us and she gave us so much.
The second stage of my relationship with my mom was when I was a teen and early adult. During this time, I chafed at her worrying and her attempts to guide me. I can remember thinking, "Mom, you''re suffocating me, back off!" Of course, now I cringe because when I think back to some of the crap I was doing during this time, I needed her worry, and perhaps a good kick in the pants, which somehow she managed to withhold. Now that I''m a parent, I''ve tried to build good karma by telling her a thousand times that I appreciate her continued patience when I was downright insufferable.
The third stage of my relationship with my mom occurred during my early career, marriage, and motherhood. She would still pitch in to help me move, give me deposits for apartments, listen to my woes, etc. I felt guilty at accepting her help because: a) I should have been doing it by myself by that time; and b) I realized that I could never pay her back for all that she has done for me. I had a hard time accepting her help even though I really needed it. She told me I was silly and gave freely to me, whatever I needed.
The last few years of our relationship have been some of the best and we have entered a new stage. Now I understand her motiviations. As a parent myself, I get it. I really mean it when I rub my son''s back while he vomits and say its o.k.. When I rock my daughter at two in the morning, I don''t do it for eventual payback. I do it because I love these beautiful creatures more than myself and I will do anything to help them have a better life. I understand how my mom feels about me because I feel the same way about my kids. If I can be half the parent she has been, I''ll do right by my children.
Now when she slips me a twenty or buys me a cute shirt just because or does my dishes, I just enjoy it because I know she lives to be my mom. I try to tell her how much she means to me but I never really could accomplish such a feat. As simple as this may sound, my mom is simply the best. The only way I can truly honor her is to pay it forward to my kids.
I don''t want these past two entries to mislead anyone. Certainly both of these relationships have some issues, including the occasional difference of opinion, miscommunication, or generational gap. Somehow, however, the overriding theme is a love that exceeds this life time.
I''m a very lucky girl indeed.
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February 15, 2006 Part 2
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