Factory work is very monotonous. For example, the assembly line process of doing the same thing over and over again. Attach piece here. Move on. Do the same thing. I can’t say my partnership with the coffee shop is the same, but a few daily tasks (such as dishes or sweeping or portioning sliced deli meat) are great moments of intertwined work and thought.
Among these moments of thoughts, I was reminded about Mother’s Day this previous Sunday. No, I didn’t forget about it. I got a present and a card (being fairly type A prevents those things) but I didn’t deeply think about one thing that intrigued me later- what my Mother has shown and taught me in my life thus far. And so here’s my tribute and reflection upon just a few of the hundreds of things my mother (and many others) have instilled and passed on to me:
Buy it on sale, baby!
Paying full price is probably a sin in my mother’s book (and might be in mine, too). My mother has taught me the value (and lack of value) in items and how to to be a savvy shopper by spending as little as possible. I resisted the thrift store as a young adolescent but over time it became (and still remains) my favorite place to shop.
Rock out!
My dad is a lucky guy when it comes to contests and drawings (but he never played the lottery…hmm). One of the prizes (I believe) was a stereo system complete with record player, CD (that is huge!), tape deck, and radio. Big stuff of the era. But as a kid and even now I can still come home to a house that’s rockin’ to something from Keith Urban to Elton John to John Fogerty. My mom loves music, and she loves it loud. My dad often laughs at the volume level of the car radio when he turns it on and it remains at the volume it was turned off at (a rockin’ volume level, of course). I love listening to music loudly, too. Now to be clear, it’s not the obnoxious level similar to many bass thumping radios in passing cards but a good, melodic sound that is worthy of declaration. Live life loud!
Church sales (and yard sales) are the best sales.
(It’s not just one person’s crap, it’s everyone’s crap.)
In addition to thrift stores, she has passed on to me a deep love for yard sales. My eyes are trained to spot bright colors and scribbley hand writing of poorly instructed directions to a residence. I still memorize street names because you never know when you need directions to garage at 1242 Pine street. They just might have the toaster of your dreams. Give my mother a list and she’ll find it. Most likely, she’ll find three different versions of the item you’re looking for, all under the price of .50 cents.
Pictures are worth a thousand words.
Photos remind, encourage, and even cause me to laugh out loud. I love looking in old picture albums and seeing events of the past. “Did I really look like that?”, “Who is that?”, and “Look, Dad has hair” are just a few the questions I would ask my mother when I look through photo albums. I enjoy doing the same and hope to do so as I take pictures. There’s no shame in taking a camera somewhere because you never know when you need to document a moment, event, or whole day to retell tales of the past.
Take care of yourself.
There’s something I miss about being sick as an adult – I don’t have mom to check up on me, possibly exaggerate my symptoms, and tell me to stay home, lie low, and watch endless hours of TV (or the back of my eyelids, usually. I never catch a simple cold. I catch the plague. I wish I were dying. It’s typically a very prayerful time of my life. “Father, take me now!”). But even when something needs checked out, there’s a fungus on my foot, or a mole that doesn’t look quite right, I know it’s important to take care of it, no matter how inconvenient or annoying it may be.
Girls communicate different than boys.
Let me explain this one. I’m not here to make some deep psychological thesis on gender communication. Sure, I could spout out some facts and thoughts, but that’s not my mother taught me in this segment. She taught me that sometimes boys (men) aren’t the best people to go to if you need girl talk. I’m not going to go crying to my Dad over my boyfriend dumping me. I want my mom. It varies from person to person, but for me, I’m talking to my mother. Sometimes I need to talk about the great pair of shoes I got for under 5 bucks or my latest hair cut. As much as I like guys as friends, hanging out with guys, and all that the gender encompasses, there’s nothing like girl talk with my best friends. They get me. I love that. And I think that’s something my mom taught me.
You should laugh a lot with the one you love.
I’m blessed to have two parents who still love each other and love to live life together. They laugh a lot (thanks to my father’s witty humor) and enjoy doing things together, and also apart. Because of this, it’s taught me that the fella who I marry should make me laugh. She’s also taught me that married folks don’t spend every waking minute together. They do different things. Simple statement, but very true. My mom doesn’t help in the garage because she always happens to get hurt (strange, but true. It’s how I became the garage helper at a young age. Mom refused. I was recruited, or should I say, drafted). They watch different TV shows. My dad watches 24, my mom watches American Idol. Being different is a good thing.
Living out #5.
When I was 16 or 17, we moved my maternal grandfather into our home. When my mother told me this, I thought she was out of her mind. Really. My grandfather was a “unique” person, and at the age of 90 he was still living alone in a huge farm house. His eating habits were poor and his Alzheimer’s disease was progressing.
He moved in with us and lived with us for three years. These three years were very trying on the family, mostly my mother. She became more than his power of attorney – she was his primary caretaker 24-7. I thank God for the people at VNA (visiting nurses association). Without their visits, I think it would have been even more difficult than it was (which is hard to imagine). My mother gave up her job, her social life, and her freedom to live out commandment #5 from Exodus – Honor thy father and mother.
There were good days. There were bad. But through it all, I can’t imagine not having that experience. Sure, I knew there was an “ultimate reasoning” in why the family was going through such a tough season, but I had no idea all thing things I’d learn from that time. Looking back, I see that he had the best care in the county, far beyond anything an assisted living facility could ever provide. He had a friendly cat at his side to the end, endless blankets, clean sheets, clean clothes, constant assistance, extreme graciousness and patience bestowed (believe me on that!), and a wonderful diet. My mother even took him off useless and draining medications to improve the quality of his well-lived life. From appointments to accidents, she was there.
So often I hear the stories of elderly who are sent to rest homes to live life alone (if they weren’t already). With the cost of assisted living facilities, you’d think the care and community of such places would be top-notch. Some places to respect and give dignity to those in their senior years, but others strip away that honor that our mothers and fathers deserve. My mother stood apart from that. We didn’t have the finances to place my grandfather in a rest home, and don’t get us wrong, we had many days that we wish we did! Grandpa was a stickler! He got into trouble! But I don’t think that my mother would stand for poor care even if we did have the money. If he would have went to a rest home, it would have to be top-notch.
She lived and still lives out #5. Even though her mother passed many years ago when she was so young, I tagged along to plant flowers and learn how to dig holes for pansies and water with care. I still go to her for plant care 101. Goggle is sometimes too long in it’s search results. It’s a lot quicker and a lot wiser to call the one who knows all the secret tricks to why your plant is a horrible color, drooping and lifeless. (I guess you could call this another lesson from mom).
The Green Thumb (see above paragraph).
This blog post could be endless, I’m sure of it. But these are a few thoughts of the day and a thankfulness to my mother and all those other mother’s out there who taught and continue to teach. To you I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and especially a very bottom of mine for my own mama-roo.
Thank you.
I love you.
Happy Belated Mother’s Day.
Shake with love
Baby cousin trying on for size mom's bandana
Happy Birthday Ma!
