Thank You, Mom

With Mother’s Day approaching, I thought it only appropriate to honor my own mother in this entry.  Let me start by saying, she’s not perfect, but what mom ever was?  Eve probably had the best shot at it, living in a perfect world and all, and we know how far she got.  So when it comes to moms, mine isn’t perfect but I really feel like God poured an extra blessing on me by the one I got.

Moms aren’t perfect.  And neither are dads.  I believe that is what is at the heart of the commandment to honor your father and your mother.  The truth is when you are 16, your brain tricks you into thinking it is far superior than the one your parents were given.  And though you may on occasion be “right” in a particular argument, as a Christian we are called to honor our parents’ wisdom over our own.  God knew more than any teenager that parents were not always going to be right.  He also knew that an important lesson for every man and woman is humility.  To humble yourself at the age of 16 is no easy task.  Or perhaps it was only a large struggle for me because I was rarely successful.  Looking back on many of the topics that made me scoff in my youth, I realize now what lessons I have carried with me into my own parenting.

It’s a long time coming, but… Thanks Mom!

Thank you, Mom, for choosing a good husband.  I believe that is the start of a good mother; knowing with whom she is going to forge the future of her children.  My dad is not perfect either, but he is a really good husband and father.  This foundation that was laid for seven lucky children is becoming more and more a rarity.

Thank you, Mom, for valuing family.  Because my mom (and dad) raised seven children, I have six people that capture my love and adoration continually and the number continues to grow as they marry and have children.  The gift of a large family taught me that the world doesn’t revolve around me and my needs, but I am a part of a world that revolves around love.

Thank you, Mom, for not taking shortcuts.  When your peers were heading down the road of convenience with disposable diapers, dishwashers, and canned goods, you were sweating over hand-washing dishes three times a day for 9 people, scrubbing cloth diapers and socks and tshirts, and canning and freezing the goodness of summer.  Though when I was young I thought store-bought cookies were a treat over your home baked ones, it was only because they were such a rarity.  My taste buds still confirm that there is nothing like homemade.  You taught me what accomplishment feels like at the work of my own hands.

Thank you, Mom, for teaching me what a treat is.  Cool Whip is so much more special when you only get a dollop a year.  So is eggnog, maraschino cherries, and ice cream cones from Twistees.  Perhaps there were times when money prevented you from indulging us as much as you may have wanted to, but I suspect that most of your resistance was out of wisdom.  While I will admit that I ate Cool Whip unabashedly from a tub on a regular basis once I moved out, I really value that you taught me how to cherish the good things in life.  Special memories of childhood were going to the Berrien County Youth Fair, picnicking at the beach, going to visit grandparents, and those rare occasions when we would get subs from the Kmart deli when we had been out shopping too long.  They didn’t happen everyday, so I was grateful for them.  I rarely got everything I wanted.  Thank you for that.  Because parenting isn’t good if you give your kids everything they want; parenting is good when your kids appreciate the occasion when they got something they really wanted.  We didn’t have a lot of toys in comparison to kids today, but we sure loved the toys we had.  More than that, we loved the company we had in a playmate.  If we had our say as kids, we probably would have eaten at McDonald’s more than the one time a year when we were traveling to Grandma and Grandpa’s, but then that burger would not have tasted so good.

Thank you, Mom, for family traditions.  Homemade burgers and fries, followed by popcorn and pop every Friday night never got old.  Thank you for knowing it is still an expectation when we visit.  Thank you for putting my hair in curlers for Easter Sunday and insisting that we all looked our very best for that day.  Thank you for not putting the presents under the Christmas tree until the late hours of Christmas Eve night, even when Santa Claus was long a thing of our past.  There is nothing quite as exciting as a Christmas tree packed with presents for seven children (and stockings falling from the mantel).  Thank you for always making a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, for lighting the candles and blowing them out right before dinner started, for always making big breakfasts on Saturday mornings, for always cooking huge meals for Sunday dinner, and for doing so many things the same exact way for years.  Sometimes the greatest security you can give a kid is in the routine that says, “things will always be this way,” even when it won’t. 

She’s not perfect, but I am really thankful she is my mom.