I have been luckier than many. I've had four women in my
life who have "mothered" me -- given me love and advice, taught me
lessons, shown me patience and paved the way for me to become a mother,
too. These women--my mother and the mothers-in-law of two marriages and the
older sister who took me under her wing--have given much and made such an
impact on my life.
Mama |
She went back to work when I was in elementary school, but there
was no sense that we were "latchkey" kids as our father went to work
early each day and was home in the afternoons when we came home from
school. Mama was an accomplished cook of southern staples, but counted on
Daddy to grill often enough so that we learned our cooking from both of
them. They shared duties around the house and were wise enough to engage
we three kids in chores as soon as we were capable of helping out. For
some years, my father's father lived with us, his later life folding seamlessly
into our younger ones. Somehow everybody was fed and clothed, taught to
enjoy fun and humor, as well as responsibility. Looking back, Mama and
Daddy's teamwork made it all seem simple when it's clear today that money was
tight and our middle-class life didn't happen without struggle.
The mothers-in-law that have enriched my adult life were from my
Mama's generation and brought many of the strengths of their time. These
women had experienced the deprivations of the Great Depression and the
sacrifices of World War II. None of them had the advantage of a college
education and all had worked to help support their families. All of them
put family first and encouraged their children to value education and a strong
work ethic. My mothers-in-law welcomed me into their homes on the arms of
their sons, extending themselves to make me feel welcome and part of the
family. Both became friends to my mother and, interestingly, both became
friends with each other. Long past the
end of the first marriage in divorce, my first mother-in-law continued to share
her affection with me.
Pat |
In fairness to my four "mothers," I have not been as
easy as I might have been to mother.
Whether by genetics or just my own native orneriness, I have challenged
them all one way or another. I have, in
fact, resisted all forms of maternal control and admittedly deserve to be seen
as the proverbial "ungrateful child" at times.
So on this Mother's Day, I owe them all my gratitude. Thinking about what they have given me humbles
me. There are lots of schmaltzy greeting
card sentiments about mothers that are available in stores. None of those seem to say enough. It is not the perfection of a woman that
makes her a good mother, but the striving for the best for another. There is, I think, in that striving, an honest
effort to see in one's child his or her particular strengths and needs and
guide the child accordingly. There are
no manuals that cover all the particulars of parenting, but I feel lucky that
these women and others I've watched and admired, have made their own
discoveries, drawn their own maps and given their kids a chance to live happily
and successfully.
So thanks to Mama and to Margaret and to Willie Mae and my dear
Pat. Whatever I am, the brush strokes
you've added to the picture of me are the ones that make me better.
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