DynaMOMENTS – dynaMOTHER, My Mother
Today is my mother’s 89th birthday. She is feisty, quick, energetic and still able to comment right to the point. She is pleasant, attentive to my Dad, and grateful for so many things. Now that she and Dad are older, all of their adult children are spending more time with them. The time is a blessing to me, and I am sure they are to my siblings. I count it a privilege even though I don’t behave with patience or childlike respect the whole time I am with them. I get a bit curt in my responses at times, mainly to my mother, but they do not notice. Being hard of hearing and being forgetful has its advantages. In this case, not for them, but for the likes of me.
I asked my mother what she would want to tell people if she had the opportunity to make a speech on her birthday. She looked at me with exasperation as if it was a ridiculous question. She is not at all concerned with the applause of the world, nor is she so arrogant that she requires the attention of admirers. She was always the type to just do what needed to be done and stay out of the way. She trained us that way. She always instructed us, “Don’t even look at the teacher cross-eyed,” and if we did, it was our fault. Even then, she did not require a teacher to give her praise about her children; she would leave the teachers alone during conference times if there “were no problems”. In all honesty, I am not sure that teachers had a whole lot of praise for me, and from the stories I heard of my other siblings, teachers had reason to notice that all of us were plenty human.
Anyway, back to her answer to my question. After looking at me a bit, without wavering and with serious eyes, she answered, “Well, I would tell people to be grateful for the blessings that God has blessed them with even if it wasn’t what they wanted.” Again, a pointed statement. Be grateful; don’t whine and complain if you don’t like it; accept it and thank God.
I am reminded of this same attitude when my daughter Mollie was born. When I found out she had Down syndrome, I was not too happy. I had not chosen this, and I did not accept it as a blessing. Yes, I cried plenty, and I had great concerns. Mollie only weighed one pound 14 ounces when she was born and had to stay in the NICU for 58 days. When she was five days old, my mother called me. She did not yet know about Mollie’s diagnosis nor the uncertain future that I feared which might have included blindness, deafness, inability to walk, and general developmental struggles. My sister was with me and answered the phone because I was too distraught to put into words what was true about the new baby, the new baby that wasn’t like my other five healthy children, the new baby that had the extra chromosome, the new baby that would one day bring more insight about the important matters of life that we don’t seem to understand when we get everything we want. (By the way, the new baby is 14 years old now, and she is able to walk, to hear, to see, and never says a bad word about anyone or anything while she maintains good and ladylike behavior.
When my sister told my mother that the “baby had Down syndrome”, my mother was quiet a bit, but then spoke words which seem to represent how she answered my birthday question that I posed to her. Her very succinct statement back to my sister was this, “Well…God blesses.” My sister said it sounded like her voice cracked as she quickly ended the phone call. I am sure she went to her knees out at the farm, something she often did for her family, praying when she was concerned, praying when she wasn’t concerned, praying when we had concerns.
I have often repeated her answer to people. I am not sure about the best way to communicate how strikingly wise they are. They are both wise and true; they are both instructive and reproachful; they are both encouraging and hopeful. “God blesses.” Yes, it is true; at least I believe it is true. Even if we don’t get what we want, God blesses. Even if we hate what we see or have, God blesses. Even if no one else understands us or if we are alone and rejected, God blesses.
These words did not come from a woman who had a perfect life. She was the youngest of six children. Her mother almost died giving birth to her. She was the aunt, sister, cousin, or relative of all kinds of people who had struggles which included thievery, suicide, alcoholism, paraplegia, birth defects, psychiatric struggles, unexpected loss of loved ones, divorce, and general illness concerns. Probably the most poignant experience is the loss of her own daughter when that little girl was age 6. Heartache was real to my mother, but even in that loss, she was able to see that heavenly schedules were better than hers. She said she never wished her daughter back. Why? Because her daughter would have had a hard life. Why? Because her daughter also had a disability. She never doubted that this daughter was in heaven, far better off. Yes, she was able to accept and see things for what they were. She never whitewashed much; just kept her mouth shut and avoided talking about troubled issues. That could be denial, but I hope it was prudence. She was always ready to say that in “five years it won’t matter”.
Even though I criticize her for ignoring what I think should be addressed, I must admit that she has never been foolish or naïve. After all, she did go to college, she taught school, she had two sisters who were in the convent, she had ten of her own children, she married a farmer who had been in the army, and most impressive, she was able to debate and discuss world and social matters with my dad’s sister who was a well-trained and educated nun with a master’s degree. She did not possess the paperwork to indicate what her qualifications were, but truly she had many and they were solid. Even my dad’s very educated and respected sister respected her.
The same qualities of my mother that I would criticize are also the same qualities that I have come to appreciate and value. I would criticize that she ignored the obvious too much, but in actuality, this was probably the effort to keep peace or to overlook the faults of others. I would criticize that she did not confront, but again, in actuality, this was probably prudence because she learned long ago that you can’t change people. Only they can change themselves, or only God can change them. Thus, to her knees a lot to pray; to her knees nightly, daily, alone. I saw it. It wasn’t a show. It wasn’t announced. It wasn’t done openly but in secret. Whether you believe in prayer or not, you must admit that when we feel helpless and when things are absolutely out of our control and no hope exists, there is no other option but to cry out to God. Even if you don’t believe, use her example to pray.
Yes, the qualities of my mother that I have come to admire are few but obvious. One of the best feelings I have had through my 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s was when I reminded myself of my mother. This was most evident to me when I was working in the hospital. I did not intentionally mimic my mother, yet when I was outside of myself, I noticed that I was my mother in action and it felt good. I seemed to only notice this when I was serving others, not serving myself. Again, another mindset of what my mother was about. Her life was about serving others…my dad, my siblings, and then the many grandchildren who happened upon the scene…blessings that she did not ask for but that she was grateful for.
And here is another example of life training that my mother experienced…one she would not have chosen, yet one she accepted and in some way must have thanked God for – the first great grandchild who died within one day of birth. How heart wrenching. Her oldest granddaughter losing her first baby, a sweet little boy. True, he would have had a hard life with the trauma that he had apparently endured, but nothing could have prepared her for holding his little body the day of the funeral. Never did my mother have an experience like this. Few times my mother could be seen crying or tearing up, and this was one of them. How could a woman with so many other experiences still have a new encounter that she had not prepared for, and yet in this, she was able to give thanks, maybe not a joyful thanks, but she moved on… probably with a lot of agony for her granddaughter who had to endure this terrible pain. None of us took that lightly.
I guess as we get close to Thanksgiving, and quite frankly no matter what day we are approaching, giving thanks is a suggestion not to be ignored. It is a good habit that creates a more positive, forward moving mindset. According to the research it helps our metabolism, our sleep, our blood pressure, our digestion, our relationships, and it gives hope to our souls, and therefore, is a strategy to get out of depression or apathy. It is also a sign of humility, a sign that there are greater scenes out there than our scene, a sign that something exists that is bigger than we are. Maybe I could have initially just told you my mother’s answer to my question and left it at that, but describing her to those who do not know her would allow them to see a woman who knew pain and disappointment. Because of this, her advice is more meaningful, more valuable, more lived. She did not have everything she wanted, but she knew enough to be thankful that she had what was good and that was enough.
Might we consider that we should reach out and do what she spent most of her life doing…serving others. Just like I felt so good when I reminded myself of my mother most when I “served” others, possibly you will feel your best when you do this…serve others; yes, serve others who are weaker, poorer, or more vulnerable than you; serve others with your talents, your strengths, your finances, your intelligence, your empathy, and of course, with humility , and at the same time, be grateful “even if you don’t get what you want.”
Matthew 25: 40
“The King will reply, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine you did for me.”