I have to make the confession that this is a Mother's Day I have not been looking forward to. I enjoyed the years of homemade cards and being taking out to dinner on Mother's Day to Rax Roast Beef by excited little boys (actually a great place to go on Mother's Day because we had the place to ourselves!). Then one by one they left (as they should) and had families of their own to celebrate with. My mom and Bill's mom passed on but we still had two boys left at home and they did their best to make mom feel special. Until this year. In September Shawn left the nest to begin life with Andi and this Mother's Day they will be "parenting" a group of teens in Florida on their OBCA senior trip...a happy reason not to be here. And Ryan is on the other side of the world putting his life on the line to help preserve freedom. That should be a happy reason not to be here, too, but I still feel a little sad.
It was easy to start having a pity party of one but I am choosing to count my blessings this Mother's Day. How glorious to know God chose me to be the mom to five men who, though far from perfect, make me proud to be their mom (because I was far from perfect mom!) And the three who are dads to my 15 (going on 18) perfect grandchildren give me joy in the matchless grace of Jesus as I watch them take parenting to the next level. I couldn't have chosen better daughters than the ones God has given me through love, although not birth!
And, of course, this day makes me think of my mom. The greatest thing she gave me was unconditional love. I don't think there was anything she would have given me, if it was in her power to do so. Okay, so I didn't have a clue how to do laundry or clean a house when I got married because, being herself thrust into adulthood before fully grown, she desired a carefree childhood for her daughters. I have had 39 years and six men to practice that on. Happily, I did have some experience cooking, not because my mom taught me (she ruled in the kitchen!) but because she gave me such a love of good home-cooked food that I wanted to do it myself. And she was gracious enough to allow me to ban her from the kitchen as a teenager so that I could pore over cookbooks and spend whole Saturdays putting together a meal for our family or my friends (while she would poke her head in and laugh at me for chilling the pie dough...or comment, "Oh you cut your tomatoes THAT way?') She loved me as a child by feeding me what I wanted, not necessarily what was best...Campbell's alphabet soup instead of her homemade vegetable beef soup or canned ravioli instead of steak...baking just the filling of stuffed green peppers because I didn't like them. And I guess it didn't hurt because I am no longer a picky eater (once I started having to cook for myself!) Showing love through her culinary talents was what she did best and we all loved being loved with her Sunday roast beef dinners (never varied...roast beef and gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans...cooked for hours, corn, rolls, Watergate salad and some kind of pie), her pots of vegetable beef soup when anyone was sick or grieving (the one thing of hers that I can do well), and all kinds of pies. We found that we had to be careful in telling her we loved something because it would be served until we couldn't stand the sight of it anymore. Bill found that out when he came to dinner when we first started courting. He raved over her tomato gravy...and we all knew what was going to be served whenever he came to call after that. And I found out that it was a mistake to rave about someone else's cooking (especially when I had been to Bill's house for dinner). I came home after having Bill's chicken pot pie for the first time...and the first time I had ever had that dish...singing the praises of her cooking. Well, mom learned how to make chicken pot pie and we saw lots of it in the weeks thereafter! And I can never eat Kentucky Fried chicken without thinking of my mom's. I have given up after many failed attempts to duplicate hers. It was every bit as good as KFC's even though she skinned her chickens before frying. I have never been able to figure out how she got that crisp coating just right, not too brown and not soggy. I look forward to it in Heaven without the calories!
Being a mom is so tough for this reason: it is so intense for so many years and then you have to let go and shoot those arrows out into the world. I have to admit I liked the intense years much better than the letting go ones! But God is so good and His grace has been so abundant in my life that I praise Him for the experience of motherhood and the joy of watching them take off! (Grandchildren ease the pain immensely, too!)
3 comments:
Denise,
I loved reading what you wrote about Grandma. I can relate to so much of what you said about your sadness this year.
I already know this will be the worst mother's day ever and I know I need to 86 the expectations. It is awful to feel your whole world has turned
upside down. I have already started crying about it 5 days ahead!
Your post made me cry. I wish we could come up there and spend Mother's Day with you. I am doing a skit this Sunday about mom's so we can't. Just know that I am thankful for the years of hard work you put into Carl. He truly is a remarkable man becauase of you.
Your blog was a real teary read, Denise.....but a happy one too with the memories! It is so easy for me to gloss over what others are going through at times, so I was glad to read your story and think about and pray for you...that the Lord might bless you in a special way...in HIs special way !
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