I was rummaging through old cards and letters I didn’t even realize my parents still had. I came upon a letter I had written to Mother on her birthday. I really don’t remember writing this letter. I do however, remember being single and a college student at the time.
I have read and reread this letter over the last couple days. I’ve shed many tears, tears being released by all the memories which are coming back to me. And I wanted to share what I wrote to her with you. Many of you are blessed to have such a mother. Many of you may not be. Please remember though, we all have the potential to be this type of mother. It may not be to our own children even, but there is someone out there who surely is in need of your mothering, your unconditional love. Enjoy!
Dear Mother, There aren’t enough opportunities to express the thoughts that occur in the passing of my day. But as I struggle to mature into the person whom you, Dad, and God desire me, I find myself ‘impressioning’ a very beautiful person-that person is you. When you were my age, I was only occurring. Being a mother is very special and my ultimate goal is to be a good mother and wife and I know that I will look back at the manner in which you and Dad reared us. For now though, the Lord is leading me elsewhere, I only pray that I am interpreting his will correctly. His will is all I desire. My life is so confusing, I become frightened, and goof thing up. I wonder how and WHY God would use me-or even want to use me!! But I look at Moses, for one and how doubtful he was. God certainly used him. Life is difficult to understand, but having a Christian home and family is something I am thankful for and do find a security in. Never change, just keep getting better! And pray for me. I know you don’t always agree with the ways I do things, but take those things with a grain of salt. Mother, I just want to wish you a very Happy Birthday and thank you for being someone whom I can impression myself after. Love you always.
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Being a mother of young adult sons brings many opportunities to share wisdom gathered over the years. I recall my mother-in-law often pointing out how one doesn’t change the management. Our son is now in a managerial position. With this position has come more responsibility as well as frustration. And with this he has come to remember his own dreams and aspirations, none of which have anything to do with being in a managerial position. He is an extremely talented young artist with the gift of creativity. How did I encourage him?
“…do your research and give more thought to developing your ideas, your business plan so to speak. Don’t burn any bridges, lay low, don’t make waves, bide your time while you focus on you and your goals. Let your experience and time spent while in this managerial position serve its purposes for you. No experience in life is ever wasted and will serve a purpose in your future, guaranteed! This is how one acquires wisdom. Focusing on your passions guides you in discovering your God-given purposes.”
“Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.” James 3:13-18 (ESV).
Photo Credit: Jean van der Meulen
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Straight up, I miss my mommy and am not sure I will ever stop missing her. She passed into glory on the morning of May 25th of this past year. Despite her failing health, she remained her sweet self to the very end. Less than two days before she passed, we talked by phone. Still her sweet and encouraging self, yet she admitted she was tired. She hadn’t said this to me before and I knew it was time.
While she was blessed to pass at home on the farm as she had wanted, just a few weeks prior I had had the opportunity of spending the night with her in her hospital room. It was a very, very special time we shared together. It was as if we had gone back in time and were both young again.
Dad and Mother were twenty and eighteen respectively when they married. By the time Mother was twenty-six, she had four children to nourish with her love. Though I am the second of four children, being the oldest daughter I have come to realize just how fortunate I was to have had her to teach me by her example just how to be a wife and mother, and to care for a home. I have often said Mother would have been an amazing kindergarten teacher, a natural and gifted teacher for sure. I am so grateful to have been her private student.
And so, the night we spent together in her hospital room was a night I am so thankful to have experienced with her. While I was tired and found myself catnapping only to be awakened by her wanting to talk, I enjoyed every minute of our conversations. It was as if she was in her early thirties and I was a young girl. We talked of memories from each of our childhoods. We talked about our each dating and falling in love with our husbands.
It was fun to be able to discuss topics which would never have been possible all those years ago. And, to discuss the past not through my childhood eyes, but through my now adult eyes. And yes, how interesting to be able to see the past in a full circle view, now knowing what I could not have been able to understand as a child.
She seemed open to my asking about a particular fear she dealt with. We children knew of this fear, actually a very common fear many people have, the fear of water. While I knew of an occurrence during her early twenties which would have left anyone traumatized, I discovered during our midnight hour chatting of how her fear of water took hold of her as a small child.
What also came to light was just how much her own mother’s fear caused her fear to develop. Mother nearly drowned as an eight year old little girl. Her mother, my grandmother, helplessly witnessed this incidence. And while my grandmother seemed to worry not just about her own children, but we grandchildren as well, hearing my mother retelling the story, made it clear my grandmother’s fear of losing her baby girl had more of an impact on my mother than that of her own experience, the actual seconds of her own being under water.
While I am not sure whether Mother realized it or not, her retelling of her near drowning incidence was told based on the perspective, the fear, she saw on her own mother’s face that afternoon. I have wondered since, had my grandmother’s facial expression been different, would my mother have developed a fear of water? Being a mother myself, I totally understand my grandmother’s heartfelt emotions as she watched her little girl going under. Any mother who loves her own children certainly understands. This is what a mother is all about. This is what a mother is made of. This is my mother’s love.
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I really can’t recall ever not having a cat. My first cat, Pepper, a black calico was born when I was three and had litters and litters of kittens over the years. She was a kitten belonging to Fluffy. And, as is the case on many farms, cats run free and reproduce almost as often as rabbits. One of Pepper’s kittens was Caramel, a white calico. And, one of Caramel’s kittens was la petite Caramel, also a white calico. By this time I must have been studying French.
My dad’s mother always had cats, all pure white. I preferred the darker fur, especially tiger stripe. Cats are usually good mousers. I’m certain this is why farmers are often okay with having so many cats on the loose. However, unless there are children, cat lovers by nature, these farm cats are often not accustom to being handled.
Growing up we really weren’t suppose to have animals in the house. We did though. Matter of fact, Caramel gave birth to a litter of kittens while we soundly slept one night, right under my sister’s bed! And even though mother cats keep a pretty close eye on their kittens, especially until the kitten’s eyes are open, our mother cats even occasionally gave birth while we children watched. Absolutely amazing!
I do recall though, watching the mother cat carry her kittens one at a time, her teeth clinched at the nape of their little necks, as she transported them to the south end of the barn. This was a safe place from us and fun training ground for the kittens, a bed of wild lavender, purple and white clover. In no time it seemed, she would lead them back across the drive to the lean-to shed and our anxious, loving little hands.
What I did not realize was Dad “never really cared for cats”. Wow! All those years growing up I never knew this until just a few years ago when he and Mother were visiting us. Two of our cats were rarely ever seen by anyone but us. Trixie, however, was a people cat, very curious and had a calm kind of courage about her. In no time at all she somehow discovered Dad. Brazenly curious she intentionally perched on the edge of the round table, eye level with Dad, as he sat in the Queen Anne wing chair right beside it. I held my breath for a second wondering just what might happen during this encounter. I warned Dad as he put forth his hand to pester her that she was not declawed. Fortunately no altercations; blood or otherwise occurred. Oddly enough this was the first time Dad had ever mentioned his disinterest in cats. Who knew?
A few months later we had opportunity for an extended visit with my parents on the farm. Of course, our three cats came with us. Before we came to visit I discussed our cats with them. I wanted them to understand that our cats never go outdoors and are truly part of our family. I needed to be sure they really would be okay with our cats in their home and that they too would respect our cats’ needs, especially understanding how they were never to be let outside. Two of our cats do not have their front claws. And besides they have always been indoor cats. Especially considering their ages (Trixie being sixteen, Heidi and Megan both nine) it would simply be too much for them to even accidentally be let outside on the farm. Mother and Dad discussed my concerns. Mother said yes, they were fine with the cats just as long as I “take care of them”.
It was fun to observe my parents as they interacted with our cats. With Mother’s vision being severely impaired I sometimes wondered if she only thought she was talking to Trixie and not an inanimate object. It was easy to see she really liked cats which is probably why we were allowed to have so many cats during our childhood, and why it never really was a big deal when they occasionally somehow did end up inside the house.
Dad was the fun one to watch with our cats, especially Trixie. Our son adopted her when he was five and she was only eight weeks old. She very easily fit inside his little Winnie the Pooh ball cap. My husband said our son cried when the adoption agency explained how he could not take her home for another week, surgery and shots, etc.,…To say Trixie was spoiled by all three of us would certainly be a true statement, but a choice we freely made. Our cats have brought us so much joy, it only seems fitting to spoil them a bit.
Trixie has always done whatever she pleases whenever she pleases. And with her advancing in age we really have no business thinking we were going to now begin teaching an old cat new tricks; so to speak. Just the same after years of letting her and her alone demand to be given a drink from the bathroom faucet, we figured this would be a good opportunity to discontinue doing so. The tiny surface area of our bathroom sink in our cape cod was slightly slanted and with her aging, occasionally she would slip and fall. Needless to say Trixie continued to jump up on the bathroom counter at my parents’ home and would patiently wait in hopes someone might oblige her. We didn’t give in, though I’m not so sure about Dad.
One morning I heard her meowing. Thinking she was waiting for me to open the bedroom door, I quickly called out to her. To my surprise Dad answered my call and said she was with him, with him in the bathroom! I have yet to ask just what was going on in there and maybe I won’t ask. At any rate, cats are very independent and will do as they please whenever it pleases them. Their independent behavior is a little baffling to Dad as he often asked me just why my cat is doing what she is doing. Cats are cats and have their own ways just like any other animal. So, Dad would continue to ask me and I would continue to give the same response each time. “Why does your cat drink out of the toilet? Why does your cat drink out of the flower pot? What’s your cat doing in there?” She’s a cat, Dad. This is just what cats do.
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