Mother's Day

Mother’s Day

Hallmark doesn’t sell a card suitable for my Mom. Simple poetic verses by American Greetings are inadequate. You simply can’t buy a card that eloquently says what my Dad knew best. My Dad knew that Mom was the reason that we had a good life.

You can’t describe my Mom without mentioning my Dad. eHarmony.com would never had put my parents together, but later on this year if the creek doesn’t rise they will celebrate their 50^th wedding anniversary. What they have is a partnership that capitalizes on the uniqueness each of them brought to their marriage. I never spent one day in doubt that my parents loved each other. My Dad always put my mom first and expected my brother and I to follow suit.

My Mom sacrificed. She went with out. In my 48 years, only two sofas and one recliner were in her living room. New things were just not important. She wore the same winter coat for years, but her kids always had a new jacket. My Mom went without so she could put her children first.

My Mom saved. I don’t know how she did it. My Dad earned a living working more than one job with the strength of his hands and the sweat of his brawl. My Mom worked food service at the high school. Some how my Mom knew how to get three nickels worth from a dime. She found the money to provide us with tutors. Instruments, wrestling shoes, or the few extra bucks to go to the movies with a friend was always provided. We may not have had much, but we always had what we needed.

My Mom challenged. Some people may say I get my extra dose of determination (a.ka. stubbornness) from my Dad. Some may say I get it from my Mom. Let’s just say I have a determined genetic code. I was loved and nurtured, but my mom was strong enough to set me straight when I wondered off the path. I smile when I think about the last words my Mom said to me every time I left the house. I can close my eyes and hear her voice say “Be careful and don’t do anything stupid!” My mom knew me well because I am still capable of doing stupid things. Those simple challenging words kept me out a more trouble then an old abacus can count.

My Mom was there. My fondest memory is simple. Most nights as a high school student I would arrive home well after my family had finished dinner. I know many of my friends came home to eat alone or had to fix their dinner. My mom graciously warmed up my dinner.

More importantly, she stayed in the kitchen to listen. I cannot not recall a conversation, but I can recall the warm feeling of being loved and not alone. My mom was there and that will always be my fondest maternal memory.

My desk contains more than one unsent Mother’s Day card and a few well-intended woodworking projects remain in pieces. But on this Mothers Day, I finally finished this post to let my mom know what she always knew.

Mom, I love you and I live a great life because you were always there.

Love,

Rick