Mother's love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved.
~Erich Fromm
Bet you thought I was going write about Greg next, didn't you? While I am grateful for him, he gets enough air time. He'll get his own entry later. For now, I'm going to write about my mom.
Given that this is my blog, and it was her life, I'll keep the details to a minimum. The most important thing I want to say is that while my mom has many wonderful qualities, what I admire most is her unmatched, beautiful strength, one that I could only dream to approximate in my own life. She gave up her young adulthood for me. She married a man who was selfish and mean, a very ungrateful soul. Many women would have found themselves trapped in a bad marriage, stuck living a life full of stress and heartache, giving their daughters nothing but bad examples to follow. Not my mom. She rose above it all and kept right on going.
At only 19 years old, with an infant, and in a marriage with an unsupportive (that's putting it mildly) husband, she started nursing school. She started working immediately after graduating, and maintained a home with two small children while working long hours of shift work. She left an abusive marriage and eventually found a man who was not only a wonderful husband, but also the best father my sister and I could ask for. When I was in high school, she went back to college and got her bachelor's degree while she continued working and raising two girls. She made sure that my sister and I knew that we were worth more than what any man made of us. She raised us to be independent and self-reliant. She was always open and honest with us about sex and drugs and anything else that might come our way, and she passed along the ability to find humor in even the worst situation, a quality that has carried me through many tough moments.
My mother was never an overly affectionate person. I never crawled into bed with her to snuggle, and I don't recall profuse hugs and kisses, but maybe that wasn't her as much as me. She didn't dole out empty praise, but we always knew when we had done something she was proud of. She has always been brutally honest about anything she disagrees with. I always hated (and still do) to be on the opposite side of an argument with her, but I have always known that if I need anything, whether she agrees or not, my mother is the one to turn to.
I didn't understand her much as I was growing up. I wanted a mom who was more of a friend than a mother. What teenager doesn't? It upset me that she didn't coddle my moods or excuse my lack of motivation at times. I thought she was too hard on me, and expected too much. I didn't understand any of her rationale until I became a mother myself. Over the last 8 years, I have found myself many times thinking, "I get it now." She saw my potential and it upset her when I wasn't living up to it. At times, she wanted more for me than I wanted for myself. I look in wonder and awe at my own children and I find it almost unimaginable that someone felt the same way about me. But I know, as a mother, that she did.
I hear stories about how people have lost contact with their mothers, or how their mothers don't help them, or are uninvolved in their grandchildren's lives. I just can't imagine how that feels. My mom is the most motivated person I know. If she wants something, she's going to get it come hell or high water. She has more energy than anyone else I know. She works and works and works, and she rarely complains. She graciously accepts my sick children into her home, and doesn't worry about Lysol or messes or exhaustion. She sees my kids every day and showers them (sometimes too much) with love and attention. She's the first person I call when I need help, or when the kids are sick or hurt, or even when I just have a juicy story to tell. She put up with a lot of bullshit from me as a teenager, and she held my life together while I was in breakdown mode after Jake was born. There were many times that I hurt her with my carelessness and selfishness - too many times to count. There were many times when I absolutely did not deserve her love, but she gave it nonetheless. Where would I be without her? I'm glad I don't have to know the answer to that question.
By the time my mom was my age, her own mother had already been dead 4 years. I think about that all the time. I think about it because my grandmother meant so much to me, but also because I know that my mother inherited her strength from Gram. When things were rough for my mom, my grandmother took the wheel. She held it together for my mom, my sister and me. She gave my mother the strength and the push she needed to get on her feet and be the woman she became, and she also did it with tough(ish) love coupled with just a touch of good humor.
I think often about the time from my grandmother's diagnosis until her death. I clearly remember when my mom told us that Gram had cancer. I remember her working ridiculous hours, still shift work, then picking us up from school, carting us to my grandparents' house and nursing her own ailing mother day after day, month after month. What goes through your mind when the roles have been reversed, when the caregiver is now the one needing care? How do you keep your heart from breaking while you watch the strongest person you know shrink away? How do you maintain normalcy for your children in the face of such turmoil? It was no small feat, of that I am certain.
On the day my grandmother died, one day before my mother's birthday, Mom brought us home and made chicken for dinner. Just another day. Just another day, except the most important woman in her life was now gone. I imagine losing her mother was probably harder for her than the lump sum of all of the other hurdles she faced. Still, she stayed strong, never letting us see her falter. She had kids who needed her. She is nothing short of amazing.
I am grateful every day for being born to this woman. I am grateful for the life she made for us, and for the example she set. I am grateful for the support she continues to give, and for the bond she has with my boys. I am grateful for her humor, generosity, and dedication. I pray for years upon years of opportunities to make more memories together, but for now, and for the times gone by, all I can really say is, "Thanks, Mom."
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