I'm a Mother

We can choose to remember the bad or we can recognize the good...

I did not come from a nurturing home. The majority of my memories involving my mother are not tender, loving or endearing. They are painful, hurtful and emotionally damaging. For many years the sting of these wounds stayed with me. For many years my judgment of her was harsh and unforgiving.

When I became a mother I vowed that I would be the kind of mother that I wish I’d had. I didn't want to be anything like her.  But a few years into my own path of motherhood the judgment I felt of my mother slowly gave way to understanding.

It happened shortly after the birth of my third child. Quite suddenly, the task of caring for the endless needs of my 3 young children (all 3 years old and under) became a mountainous task that left me with little strength at the end of each day. For the first time in my experiences as a mother I found myself losing my patience and snapping at them for doing very childlike things. The stress was overwhelming. I felt like a meager portion of butter being scraped across a dried out piece of bread. There were many times that I became frustrated with my son for wetting the bed (again) but then I remembered my mother and I bit my tongue. Each time I felt that I couldn’t take the noise from all the crying, fussing, yelling and whining another minute I remembered her and hit my own head against the wall instead of theirs. She was on my mind through it all.....keeping me from repeating her mistakes. And without condoning her I grew to understand her.


Time and motherhood have healed those wounds and now I’ve come to forgive her.

She once told me in later years (while seeking my forgiveness), that she “did the best she could.” My pride and lack of perspective made me think that was a pretty lame excuse.  But not anymore.  Now, I get it. I understand. Years ago I forgave you fully, completely and have since then learned to love you. Though t's always difficult picking out a mothers Day card for you because nearly every card I read at the Hallmark store I have to put it down because the words in the card are not the truth I lived.

Recently I’ve been coming to realize how much of what I do as a mother came from your influence and example. I just wanted to share these things with you on Mother’s Day to thank you for the good that you did do:


Because of you I am a runner.
I remember seeing you many times as I drove the bus home from school. Through my window I’d spot you jogging along our old country road wearing your canary colored polyester warm up with thin black stripes down the sides of the arms and legs.

Because of you I read to my children.
When I was little I laid on your bed at naptime as you red me stories like Yurtle the Turtle, The Pickle Chiffon Pie and Petunia the Silly Goose. As I got older you read books aloud as I sat behind you playing with your hair. The Hobbit, Amy’s Eyes and Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites were among my favorites.

Because of you I cook healthy meals for my family.
Each morning at breakfast there was hot food on our plate. Eggs and Oatmeal were not my favorite, but they are now. My lunch consisted of a whole wheat sandwich, an apple and a quarter for milk. You never gave me fruit roll-ups, potato chips or pudding cups. Just the basics my body needed for a foundation of good health. Each night you cooked our meals from scratch and made sure we had a meat, grain, and vegetable on our plate with a large glass of milk to wash it down.


Because of you I read daily from the scriptures.
One of my earliest memories of the scriptures was seeing you read from the pages of your old, worn copy. The black leather was weathered, the pages were soft from being turned as you read intently, reverently and frequently.

Because of you I volunteer at my kids school.
I was always so proud when you would come to volunteer in my class in elementary school. Many of the kids would tell me how pretty my Mom was and it made me proud. Having you there made me  feel popular among my friends. One time a kid was teasing me and another kid intervened and told them to leave me alone because “I had a cool mom.”


Because of you my children take piano lessons.
We always had a piano in our home even though you couldn’t afford to pay for lessons. I learned by hearing you play that when I became a mother my children would take lessons and learn to play.


Because of you I decorate my home.
You sewed curtains, painted walls, stuffed pillows and hung flower boxes with red geraniums from the outside windows of our old farm home. On a limited budget you decorated our house and turned it into a home.


Because of you I manage the money in our home.
How many times did I see you upstairs at that desk punching numbers into that silly adding machine amidst frequent groans as you balanced the checkbook. When I’m at my computer paying my bills online I remember you and smile.

Because of you I am grateful for my dishwasher and dryer.
Countless times I saw you hanging clothes on the clothesline outside and upstairs in the hallway along the bannister rail. For years you washed dishes by hand in that old farmhouse sink cooped up in a tiny kitchen away from the rest of the house. Every load of laundry I throw in the dryer, and every dish I place in the dishwasher I am grateful when I remember you.

Because of you I am a Mother.
You never earned a college degree or held a full time job. Whenever someone asked what you did, you never hung your head but responded graciously, “I'm a Mother.”
And now, I do too.