Happy Mother’s Day in heaven, Mom…
I wish you were here so we could sit down with a hot cup of coffee and one of your scrumptious banana bars with cream cheese frosting and enjoy each other’s company. Since you aren’t, here is my Mother’s Day thank you to you in heaven.
Thank you for teaching me unconditional love. You taught me that no one is perfect. We all make mistakes, and you know I made many of them growing up. Still do. As the years passed you continued to love me through my ups and downs. Yes, I disappointed you; yes, you reprimanded me; however, you never threw me out with the trash. You loved me no matter what.
Thank you for teaching me forgiveness. You taught me that regardless of how bad I thought an offense was, it needed to be forgiven. You demanded that I be quick to forgive and make amends. To not judge, and don’t assume. To always, ALWAYS get both sides of the story before making a decision.
Thank you for teaching me independence. You taught me that if there was an issue with someone or something, it wasn’t your job to run to my rescue. No hovering or lawn mower (bulldozing) parenting from you! It was MY job to figure it out. When my second-grade teacher was mean, you told me “the Harder she gets the smarter you get so keep working at it” (yes, I had Mrs. Harder in 2nd grade). When mean girls poked fun at my flaws, you did not call up the mothers of those girls and yell at them. Nope, you told me to go talk with them and try to work it out, or just let it go and to remember “this too shall pass.”
Thank you for teaching me to fight. You taught me that life is worth fighting for. You fought cancer twice, once in your 50’s and once in your 70’s; you fought the darkness of depression when you lost your only son in a car accident; you fought to be the best caregiver for dad when he lost his memory to Alzheimer’s and his eyesight to Macular degeneration; you fought boldly against dementia when it had its sharp claws in you; you never gave up. You fought back, you endured, you were strong and courageous. I pray I never have to go through the trials and tribulations that you had to go through in life. But if I do, I pray I can be as audacious as you were.
Thank you for teaching me to celebrate life. You taught me that there’s always a reason to throw a party. You were a social butterfly and cherished a joyous get-together. You had parties for everything… birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, confirmations, holidays. I think you even made up a few of your own holidays just so you could have a party. You appreciated people and you wanted to share your celebrations of life with them.
Thank you for teaching me to laugh. You taught me that a good belly laugh is good for the soul. You had a delightful sense of humor. Your quick wit was a trait I absolutely adored in you. From the crazy exercise contraptions that we bought together, to the uncontrollable giggling in church, you were the perfect example of jovial. Your grandkids have inherited that from you, and now they are able to get me to laugh by using their quick wit. And most days I really need that laughter.
Thank you for teaching me to appreciate music. You tried hard to teach me to sing so thanks for the effort. You had a beautiful voice, Mom. Harmonizing was your gift. Plus, you could yodel, play guitar, and play piano. You loved Alan Jackson and Johnny Cash, and you also enjoyed a slow waltz and a two-step. I am still in awe of your musical talent.
Thank you for teaching me to be prompt. You taught me to show up at least 10 minutes early to any appointment or job or game or whatever. To this day I still try to arrive early. Doesn’t always happen (especially to department meetings—sorry Dr. V.), but I try my hardest.
Thank you for teaching me to accessorize life. You taught me that lipstick and earrings and fun shoes and gum make life a little more glamorous. You were a sharp dresser. You even made sweatpants look good. You flaunted your dangling earrings and your colorful lipstick. As you aged, the snazzy shoes weren’t as important to you, but you could make tennis shoes look like high heels. Your granddaughter has taken on your love of shoes. We call her “goody 200 shoes.” 🙂 And gum…you always needed a piece of gum close to your fingertips. We even buried you with a tube of lipstick, fancy shoes, and a pack of gum.
In spite of all that, Mom, I am grateful for I Samuel 16:7b – “The LORD does not look at the things man (people) look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” Amen to that…I’m grateful Jesus loves you and me just the way we are—with or without lipstick and earrings and snazzy shoes.
I’m sure there are many other lessons you have taught me, Mom. Not enough room here for all of them. I just want you to know that I miss you tremendously, I love you enormously, I ask you for forgiveness of any heartache I may have caused you, and please save me a room up there next to yours so we can once again share lots of love and laughs.
Happy Mother’s Day and see you someday soon.
Love your daughter…
What are some life lessons your mother has taught you? Please share in the comments below and then make sure to tell your mom.