For My Mother and What She Did to Me

What, I can't post this late? My blog, my rules.

Mother's Day, the day to celebrate motherhood, the day to make all the other mothers out there feel guilty for not being as good as the mothers that are being talked about. The day for mothers who are being talked about to wonder when their children became so eloquent. And the day that exists for mothers to be put upon a pedestal in which she will inevitably fall off. (all in all, those of us without children might not have it that bad... so far I have zero guilt for messing up anyone's frail childhood and stunting their creative growth because I didn't let them take Tap for Two-year Olds. huh.)

Mother's Day to me has always been about my mom. She's wonderful. She's not perfect though and that's part of why she is so wonderful. In fact she's the first one that pointed out that Mother's day isn't always so fun for women whether they have children or not. In fact it usually left her with a fair amount of guilt because she "clearly didn't raise her children near as well as so-and-so did". (Which is not true because I know so-and-so's children and what they did last summer!) So, she usually came home with guilt and a flower to kill before the end of the week. But I digress.

My mother. Never was I so shocked when I came home from my mission to find out that in finding myself I was more like her than ever before. I mean hello! I had spent 18 months away from the woman. I had really and truly found myself! And I liked myself. I was fun and witty and saying things exactly like she did... drat! I was a little troubled at first, and then I found it not so bad. I mean, people like my mother. In fact when I was in high school she was more popular than I was! (She played the piano for the plays and everyone liked her.) She was fun. Still is. And together we are fun.

There are a few things that will endear me to her forever though. First. The mission field.

I had a companion. She was a little, shall we say "overboard" on the rules. She was stressed. She was drama. She was trying my patience. My mother had kindly sent me a Disney tape (I know, 'tape' dates me) with things like "Let's Get Together" and "The Ugly Bug Ball" and "A Whole New World". It was p-day. I put it in to listen to while I cleaned the house. My companion went a little crazy. In fact she locked herself in the closet with another tape player with hymns going as loud as the little player could go.
I was stunned. I kind of sat there for a minute and just blinked. Then I laughed (that's just the way I am) and lacking anyone else to tell I wrote it in my letter to home going out that very day.
It was my mother who gave me those wise words of calm and reason so I could deal with such a thing. It was my mother who saw the situation for what is was and knew just how to help her struggling daughter with this well-meaning but slightly off balance missionary. Yes, it was my mother who shared these words of wisdom with me:

"Do you think if I sent some Metallica she would melt?"

And that about sums it up. They were the perfect words. I love my mother. She's fun. She's a bit crazy. She makes me laugh. And most of all she puts up with all the drama her kids heap upon her. And believe me, the power of 7 (and spouses and children) combined can really pile up on a person. But she handles it with grace, and dignity, and prayers, and snark. Good woman that.

And on a side note: thank you to all the wonderful friends and women out there who brought me chocolate on Mother's day! Nothing heals the soul like chocolate. Oh and good friends. And good company. And belated mother's day gifts that might just be a Nook (yeah!)

Life is good my friends. Life is good.