A Tribute to Mom 2015

I have been thinking about my mother so much lately. It isn’t that I don’t always think of her but for some reason, she has been in my thoughts frequently (probably one more item I can add to the menopausal list -ugh!) and I have wished on more than one occasion my mother was there for me – as she was my whole life. I sure do miss her; the one person I could count on like nobody else. Mom was my champion who believed in me; not just who I was as a person, but in everything I tried to accomplish.  She believed I was a good writer and read and saved everything I wrote. I don’t believe anyone has supported me or believed in my dreams more than my mother. I will always be grateful to her amazing love. Sure we had our moments, but Mom always forgave, tried to understand or at least pretended very well and learned to accept who I had become without expecting much in return.  No matter what, Mom was always – always there for me.  I would give anything to spend one more Christmas with her and hear that voice, see her be so excited by everything and everyone. She got so much joy by being around those she loved. My mother truly was Christmas spirit.

As much as I wanted to write something new, I looked at what I had written a couple years ago and “My Mother’s Christmas Gift” seemed to sum up most everything I wanted to say and I thought with everything going on in the world (and perhaps in our own homes), perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to re-post some positive words (and maybe try to revive my blog).

My Mother’s Christmas Gift

It will be nine eleven years since my mother has been gone. Mom loved this time of year. She loved Christmas. She especially loved all the lights and decorations. Our Christmas tree was full of the hanging silver tinsel. The skimpier the tree, the greater the tinsel factor. Our front lawn was decorated the humungous ornaments – a giant Santa and two reindeer strung from wires, as if they were magically soaring across the front lawn; big ornaments hanging in the locust trees, lights lining the house and porch. We were so embarrassed by Mom’s gaudy lawn Christmas art when we were growing up. The older I got, the more I grew to appreciate Mom’s love of Christmas spectacle and my own house looked like a great beacon at Christmas, lights lining every angle and beam imaginable, with my own Santa standing on the porch to greet people. Mom always seemed to know what she was getting for Christmas. Somehow every one of her presents would magically have the corners untaped or ripped slightly. She was like a little kid during this time of year and it was infectious.

I seem to miss Mom more this year then I have in a long time. Maybe it’s because I’m so far removed from my family this year. I’m reminiscing more and thinking of Christmas past. I find myself crying because I miss my mommy like a little child. I don’t know if it’s because I’m feeling lonely for family or because Mom is the one person who always wished so badly for my happiness and now I would love to share that with her. My life has changed and it’s all for the better so I suppose “lonely” isn’t really the way I’m feeling. It’s just that I’m so used to having all my children around me, although I’m happy they’re happy and I think they’re happy for me too. It’s just very different for me not having them close, not having them walk through my door at any given moment. I guess it was a comfort knowing I had a door my children would walk through at any time. I know I miss walking through the door of my family home and seeing my mother sitting in that blue chair of hers, always having somebody to count on; knowing no matter what I did, what choices I made in my life, or where I went, I always had an open door to walk through and the open arms of my mother to fall into. She might not always like the choices I made or the things I did and she might even get mad at me. I’m sure we had our little moments where perhaps we didn’t speak for a day, but we couldn’t bear the thought of being upset with each other. When we were little, Mom would yell at us girls and we’d cry and go in our bedroom. Later Mom would come in and she’d cry, we’d cry some more and we’d all be sorry. That was how things went. When we got older we shared almost everything with Mom. All our joys, sorrows, and so much bitching. She probably got tired of the bitching, although she never complained. Well perhaps to my father and she did run off to First Roach with him every summer. I think that was to get away from all of us and our bitching.

Mom never judged too harshly. She could hold a grudge but she couldn’t stay mad at us kids. She accepted us for who we were even if she didn’t always understand us, maybe even approve of what we were doing with our lives or who we were with. I’m sure we sometimes even hurt her, but she always forgave us because that’s what a mother does. A mother’s love is unconditional. It may not be an easy task to be a mother but it is an awesome gift; the greatest gift bestowed by God. It’s something to be cherished for a lifetime. My mother knew that. It is not something to be taken for granted, squandered or looked at as some right. I don’t believe Mom ever felt we owed her anything for her lifetime of commitment, sacrifices and love. She never kept any tally sheets.

I know being a mother myself, I don’t always agree with some things my children do or choices they make and I suppose I am more judgmental than my mother ever was. Perhaps it’s because I’ve had to be both parents. I do know I always have my children’s best interest at heart, not my own, which they sometimes don’t understand. I have lived through more, seen more and I guess I sometimes want to spare them the same mistakes and heartaches I’ve endured. I have that motherly instinct to protect whoever I think is bringing them harm. That’s the other thing perhaps they don’t always understand. More than anything though, I want my children to be happy and pray for their happiness. It’s not about what I think is best for them, not about me. It’s about them and their happiness. That’s what my mother got so well. She just wanted me to be happy. That’s all my mother ever wanted for any of us kids – for us to be happy and be loved.

Perhaps it’s fitting that Mom left this earth this time of year, a time she loved so well; during the most joyous time there is. A time when we all should examine our hearts and learn to be at peace within ourselves, which also means finding peace with others. My mother, like my father, put family first. Her children mattered most of all. I went to the mall yesterday with two of my children to get some shopping done. I got nothing accomplished but it was a great afternoon filled with laughter and enjoying our time together. If Mom was around, she would have been in the car with me. (If the car was moving, Mom was in it!) She was a mother through good times and in bad, rejoicing with us, when she doubted our decisions, even when she got hurt. A mother forgives, a mother loves unconditionally, bears all things.

As much as Mom loved lights and tinsel and unwrapping the corners of her presents, we were her greatest Christmas gifts. We all knew that. There can be no greater blessing I can think of, than my mother’s beautiful, inspirational, unconditional love.

I still miss Mom, miss her laugh, miss her voice. If I had one Christmas wish, it would be to sit with her one more time, to sit at the table and join her for a Christmas toddy and have her rejoice with me and laugh together. I could see her face when I tell her how happy I am and see her happiness at the thought of knowing at last I am truly happy. She would squeal with delight and I could hear her yell in my ear one more time. We could add more tinsel to the tree. We could open up the corners of all the Christmas presents and I could feel her infectious love of Christmas just one more time.