Traditionally Mother’s Day brings gifts. Today I reflect on the gifts given me by my mother.
Teresa
- Blue eyes. Given that blue eyes are a recessive trait, I would have have them had she not contributed a non-dominant allele I would not have blue eyes.
- Giggle. I really do NOT giggle very often. (Mom actually giggles more than I.) But, when I do giggle, I hear my mom.
- Canning. Mom taught me how to can. I remember canning pears as a teen, in our mobile home in Madras, OR. I was NOT happy to be canning then. I can happily now.
- Gardening. Yesterday, sitting in the soil between two freshly dug rows, poking bean seeds into the ground, I was in a happy place, a place introduced to me by my mother.
- Reading. Mom would spend hours nursing my younger siblings as she sat in the rocking chair with a book. Now that I’ve nursed children I know it does not take hours. Thanks to mom, I also have known hours and hours and hours of happiness, lost in the pages of books.
- Note writing. I grew up with the sure knowledge that my mother loved me and I have written evidence to prove it. Mom’s personal, handwritten letters were (and are) both a blessing and an example to me.
- Brother Jefferies. As a youngster I remember sitting (sometimes squirming) while Mom visited with Brother Jefferies, an elderly and lonely widower in our congregation. For years Mom went out of her way to bring light to his life. Her service blessed him and me. Now her service to Brother Jefferies blesses my children and the “Brother Jefferies” that we have adopted over the years.
- NOT varicose veins, long and strong fingernails, or a love of cooking. Those gifts Mom gave to my sister, Marjorie.
- Patience. I remember coming home from college with a need for a new dress. I was short, irritable and ingracious. Mom was creative, comforting and kind. She looked past my prickles and did not bristle at my brutishness, responding instead with grace and gentleness. When I find myself responding graciously, I know the patience must have come from her because I do not have it on my own.
- Absolute devotion and fierce loyalty. Mother bears are real. My mom was a mother bear for me, willing to face even my father if she felt I needed and mertited defending. That’s my Momma!!!
- LIFE. Thank you, Mother-my-Mother, for the gift of life. Literally and figuratively, you have put your life on the line for me and I thank you for this most precious of all gifts.
Teresa
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