It’s been over six years since my mother went away, and though I know she’d never intentionally leave my side, it just so happened that this earth couldn’t handle her greatness any longer. So she went to cut-up with the rambunctious angels, and she stands in the ranks with other beautiful mothers who had to leave this earth after their work with their children was done.
And although I desperately wish I could still seek her knowledge and counsel in my own life, I am supremely blessed that in a way she resides here with me still. The lessons and example she set as a mother live on in my own life, and by her lead I have been able to become the mother I am today.
1. She taught me sacrifice. I don’t suppose there’s any other characteristic that exemplifies motherhood than that of sacrifice. After all, from the moment of conception women begin to sacrifice their own body and comfort for that of their child. But my mother’s example set the bar high for me.
When I was young we struggled in life. Our circumstances were unstable, and our financial security was nonexistent. To put it plainly we were broke. We had no family nearby to turn to for help, my biological father had abandoned us, and left us with an empty bank account and mounds of bills due. It’s not a pleasant memory in all my childhood remembrances, but it taught me the strength a woman can possess.
My mother worked so hard so that I continued to have a roof over my head. She skipped dinner so that I could eat when our cupboards became bare. In a time when she felt broken, for me she stayed together. She never let me see her cry, and though I heard her muffled tears at night, for me she was always smiling and hopeful. In a time when things were very uncertain she made me feel safe, and like everything would be okay. She would have gone to any length to make certain I was safe, well-fed, and emotionally secure.
It is something I will never forget.
2. She taught me to embrace embarrassment. That may sound confusing, but what I mean is this. She taught me that it wasn’t important what the world thought of you; it was only significant what your loved ones knew.
I always think of fourth grade. Mom was very involved in my school, and though she worked a lot, she still took time to show interest and help make my book covers. She also showed up to my fourth grade field’s day dressed up as our classroom mascot. We happened to be Price’s Peanuts, and she spray painted an egg crate, foam pad the color brown for her costume. She looked eerily like the Planter’s peanut guy except for the ball cap instead of a top hat.
As a kid I was beyond excited for her presence, especially in a peanut costume. As an adult I think about things like her feelings as she stood center of attention draped in foam padding. Was she embarrassed? Not a bit. She taught me that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. All she cared was what I thought. All that mattered to her was my excitement, and the fact that I knew she loved me.
Often times being a mom means letting go of worries for how others think you’re doing, and instead allowing your conscious and heart to drive your interventions for your children. It doesn’t matter what the world thinks, but it does matter that your child knows they’re worthy in your sight.
3. She taught me unconditional love. Moms love their children, and really great moms love them unconditionally. It’s like God created motherly love to show His creation an example of how much He cares for us, and my mom took the role seriously.
I wasn’t an easy child. With all the turmoil and changes we went through I, for some reason, developed a horrible habit of lying. Around eight years old I lied all the time. If I thought it might make me look bad then I lied about it. I don’t recall my very first lie, but I do remember my last.
I had done something really bad, and being the habitual fibber I was I made up my mind to stick to my guns. Denial, denial, denial. But everyone knew that I had done this awful thing. They just wanted me to fess up.
I was determined to maintain my faulty innocence when my mom took me aside. “Baby,” she said, “just tell me the truth.”
I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. Then she added, “I know you’re lying, but I love you anyway. It’s always been the two of us, and it always will be. Tell the truth and I’ll stick by you. I’ll stand by you and take up for you.”
I have never forgotten that conversation, and after I came clean I decided never to lie to her again. A woman who loved me at my worst certainly deserved my best. Even at my ugliest she was my biggest supporter. And it brings tears to my eyes even now.
4. She taught me that I had value. A mother always thinks their child is special, but sometimes they may neglect to put that into words or actions. Not my mom.
My mom was always quick to tell me she loved me, repeatedly, and her actions certainly proved it was true. But there is one conversation I always remember. It removed any doubt I may have had telling me that I was less than precious in her sight.
Around the time in my childhood of change and habitual lying, my mom and new dad were expecting a baby. I was excited to finally have a sibling, but I was also honestly concerned. I knew it would be their child, and I wasn’t sure how I would fit in that mix. I already felt like an outsider in a new town and new school.
One evening, late in my mother’s pregnancy, she grabbed my hand seriously. We had been cooking dinner when suddenly she turned my face towards her.
She spoke, “This new baby is wonderful, but she will never be you. It’s always been you and me. Nothing will change that. You’ll always be my baby.”
I knew then, if I had ever wondered, that I was special. I was considered something wonderful in my mother’s eyes, and she loved me as a unique, precious person. I had always had value, but she made me feel that way.
5. She taught me I was always welcome. There is no greater feeling than to realize that you can always go home. My mom and dad made it clear to me when I first moved out that I would always have a place under their roof, and I held them to it.
Over the years from twenty to thirty I came back home twice. Both times I was hurting, and in my mother’s welcoming embrace I always found acceptance and healing. Her love for me, even in the times when my problems were of my own making, was like a soothing balm to my spirit. I knew no matter how far I ran away from my true potential in life, I was never too far to return home for clarity and restoration.
As I’ve written down these beautiful stories of my mother, and have shed more than a few tears, I am once again reminded how blessed I was to have her for thirty-one years. In that time she impacted me positively in so many ways, and even though she is not present for my life as a mom, she is certainly responsible for the type of mother I have become.
ruthiespage says
Beautifully written
Outstanding lady! And so are you
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you!