What is your best memory of your mother? It's hard to decide...my mother, was a mother extraordinaire. Most of the time she was the perfect mix of nurturing and discipline. She was hugs anytime one was needed, but she was a boundary keeper when you didn't follow the rules. I don't know how she knew how to be a great mom, she didn't have a mother to model. She lived with what is fair to call, a real-life "evil stepmother." Perhaps she learned how to be a mother by watching what NOT to be? Maybe...or maybe she was just born to be one, and it was a gift given to her by God? I'm not saying she was perfect and I'm not saying she didn't make mistakes, but overall, my memories of my mother are pretty stellar. She balanced caring for four little girls with the skill of a circus juggler...and lion tamer. The crazy thing is, she always looked beautiful while she did it.
I wanted to say that first because...I never wanted to be a mother, EVER. It looked like the hardest job in the world and I just wanted...what I wanted was to not have a big family. To indulge myself with all the things, the nice things my momma never had. She cleaned sticky fingers and faces. She must've wiped down the kitchen table more than ten times a day. She washed a mountain of laundry, combed the hair of four, wiggling, struggling little stinkers. (We did occasionally get a swat for all that wiggling.) She ran herself ragged most every single day, and then come 5pm, she stopped, bathed us all, had us in pajamas and herself in lipstick when my daddy walked in that door. THAT was not the life I had in mind.
I wanted to be able to read books late into the night, go to nice restaurants, live in a house that didn't require constant cleaning. Buy my clothes at a store, not have to sew them myself. Nope, a family, children, that was not the life for me. When people would ask me, "when do you plan to have a child?" I would say, "I don't." That's the honest truth, I had ZERO plans to have one.
But as you already know, God had other plans. At only 21 my goal of self-indulgence was interrupted by a beautiful baby girl. I spent nine months in sheer terror. A baby, I didn't like them, didn't hold them, the biggest problem was, they could not be controlled. The things I knew about babies I could count on one hand. My momma wasn't the kind of momma that passed the care of the little ones to the older ones. She did it all, and she did it well.
I remember being 7 months pregnant and struggling to eat. (I was always nauseous.) I burst into tears at the dinner table, and squawked out..." my momma never ate the last piece of chicken. She was always suddenly too full if one of us wanted it. What if I'm really hungry but our baby wants the chicken?" Randy laughed and laughed till I finally got mad at him. Blubbering I tried to make him understand. "You don't get it... If we needed something we couldn't afford, my momma could make it. She always, always, always found away." Case in point- one really lean Christmas she went to construction site begging for leftover wood. She made each one of us a doll cradle. She painted them and made them beautiful. I loved that cradle. My doll lived in that cradle for years...I even put my baby brother in it. Do they make momma's like that anymore?
My momma left me a pretty big apron to fill, I couldn't imagine being anything but as good a momma as mine...and yet, I didn't think I was born with her gifts. I would need to figure it out, find a way...and pray nonstop.
I hardly ever see my momma now...she lives 500 miles away. She is 80 years old and on dialysis. I live with severe autism, and Britton hasn't been able to travel for a lot of years.
My momma doesn't complain too much, though I can't imagine how she manages her own care and my dad's dementia. Recently she said to me..."How do you do it? I'm just so grateful God never asked me to be the momma of someone with autism. Britton is so blessed to have you, you are one gifted momma." She didn't know I cried, she didn't know how much it meant to me. I'm not sure I ever thought I had measured up, it was sure good to know she thought I did.
These days when one of my girls asks me how to manage a situation with one of the grandkids, I am humbled and honored. I assure them they come from a legacy of good mommas. My youngest daughter said, "Well I figure you did a pretty amazing job with Holli and me, so who better to ask?" What a gift, what a compliment. In spite of all that autism steals away from a family, this priceless gift I got to keep. The determination to parent a child with all you have is truly a gift from God.
I am grateful that God didn't let me have my way. Refused to leave me to indulge myself in a clean house, and reading books in my store-bought clothes. I am also grateful that he allowed me lots of practice with two girls before the REAL TEST arrived. Though I must admit, not many of the same rules apply when it comes to autism; and yet the love is exactly the same.
THIS IS MY MOMMA--my favorite picture of her
I know not everyone has a great mother...but hopefully, everyone had some momma figure that stepped in to fill in those big shoes. If you have an amazing mother story, please reply back, I'd love to hear them.
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO THE GREATEST MOTHERS I KNOW!
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