My beloved parents & grandmother came to celebrate Melissa's baptism with us. Words cannot describe my joy at having them here at this special event. This post is about them, my Mother & Father.
Moms & Dads are a dime a dozen and I remember all the times I imagined about trading them in. Trading them for the parents who let them have a TV in their room, or go to sleep overs, or do their math homework in pen. I remember threatening to run away when I was grown up & five. I had a bright red suitcase that said "going to Grandma's" in cute white letters. One day I actually packed that suitcase & opened the front door, knowing full well there was no where as comfortable as home. Mother retrieved me before I'd cleared the porch. Taking me by the hand she lead me into my room and opened my suitcase. She scolded me. I had packed my Sunday shoes so the soles rubbed on my clean bath towel and now she was going to have to wash it again. (When one runs away they always pack their fancy shoes & their bath towel!) Do you remember, Mother?
Funny things happen when you attempt to raise posterity. It's almost like a near death experience. Suddenly and uncontrollably, life scenes flash before your eyes. Your heart pounds as if trying to escape it's bony cage. Scenes flicker in slow motion and you vividly recall every act of skulduggery, the arguments, the teenage tantrums! In an instant, everything you did to drive those parents insane squeezes your heart! You now know exactly what they felt! And now I'm having my own absurd discussions about why 2nd graders don't do their math in pen!
I'm so sad I yelled at my mother! Remembering almost make me cry. Oh how she loved me! Even when I was so ridiculous & difficult! Heaven help mothers!
Dad, he was always calm & was always right. I remember the lectures he gave me while I sat on my bed. I put on a show as if I couldn't care less, in one ear and out the other, but I was listening. Since my Dad was always right, I knew my life would be easier if I did what he taught me. One time there was some type of drama and I went in my room and slammed my door. Dad came in & removed it from the hinges - no door. Teenagers like doors. To fight back I turned my cd player on full volume. Wordlessly he walked in, unplugged it, and hauled it away. Ha! My alarm clock had a radio so I turned that up. Check mate. Now I'm a door-less, music-less chick with white walls & a bed for company. It's said that when God closes a door he opens a window. Well, in this case, the door was removed and instead of opening a window he sent an angel. My own Gabriel (or Moroni) came undetected into my door-less, white cage. Merrill, the worlds greatest little brother, army crawled across the floor and handed me his walkman!
My brother & sister(s) are another post. I learned so much from the quiet bed-top conversations with my Dad
and the tireless love of my Mom.
Our other honored guest was Gloria, my mother's mother. Isn't she beautiful?!
She's done more than I can say to make me who I am. I am the result of unconditional love, by my parents, and by my Grandparents. Grandma & Grandpa always told me I could achieve any dream. I was always the most beautiful, the most talented, the most amazing, no matter what. I believed them! Even when it was clear I was not the best, Grandma & Grandpa were there to remind me of my infinite worth & potential. To this day she still cheers me on & expresses her pleasure & pride at my accomplishments. While here she didn't criticize my less than spotless house, nor my less than tame posterity. She told us all how much she loved us, how beautiful we all are, and she reminded us to count our blessings... so many blessing!
Now I'm the Mother & the unconditional love is up to me. And, hopefully I'll do as well as my mother & grandmother. I'm counting on my quiet bedside lectures to be heard. And then, in the very, very end, we'll all be together, forever!
Moms & Dads are a dime a dozen and I remember all the times I imagined about trading them in. Trading them for the parents who let them have a TV in their room, or go to sleep overs, or do their math homework in pen. I remember threatening to run away when I was grown up & five. I had a bright red suitcase that said "going to Grandma's" in cute white letters. One day I actually packed that suitcase & opened the front door, knowing full well there was no where as comfortable as home. Mother retrieved me before I'd cleared the porch. Taking me by the hand she lead me into my room and opened my suitcase. She scolded me. I had packed my Sunday shoes so the soles rubbed on my clean bath towel and now she was going to have to wash it again. (When one runs away they always pack their fancy shoes & their bath towel!) Do you remember, Mother?
Funny things happen when you attempt to raise posterity. It's almost like a near death experience. Suddenly and uncontrollably, life scenes flash before your eyes. Your heart pounds as if trying to escape it's bony cage. Scenes flicker in slow motion and you vividly recall every act of skulduggery, the arguments, the teenage tantrums! In an instant, everything you did to drive those parents insane squeezes your heart! You now know exactly what they felt! And now I'm having my own absurd discussions about why 2nd graders don't do their math in pen!
I'm so sad I yelled at my mother! Remembering almost make me cry. Oh how she loved me! Even when I was so ridiculous & difficult! Heaven help mothers!
Dad, he was always calm & was always right. I remember the lectures he gave me while I sat on my bed. I put on a show as if I couldn't care less, in one ear and out the other, but I was listening. Since my Dad was always right, I knew my life would be easier if I did what he taught me. One time there was some type of drama and I went in my room and slammed my door. Dad came in & removed it from the hinges - no door. Teenagers like doors. To fight back I turned my cd player on full volume. Wordlessly he walked in, unplugged it, and hauled it away. Ha! My alarm clock had a radio so I turned that up. Check mate. Now I'm a door-less, music-less chick with white walls & a bed for company. It's said that when God closes a door he opens a window. Well, in this case, the door was removed and instead of opening a window he sent an angel. My own Gabriel (or Moroni) came undetected into my door-less, white cage. Merrill, the worlds greatest little brother, army crawled across the floor and handed me his walkman!
My brother & sister(s) are another post. I learned so much from the quiet bed-top conversations with my Dad
and the tireless love of my Mom.
Our other honored guest was Gloria, my mother's mother. Isn't she beautiful?!
She's done more than I can say to make me who I am. I am the result of unconditional love, by my parents, and by my Grandparents. Grandma & Grandpa always told me I could achieve any dream. I was always the most beautiful, the most talented, the most amazing, no matter what. I believed them! Even when it was clear I was not the best, Grandma & Grandpa were there to remind me of my infinite worth & potential. To this day she still cheers me on & expresses her pleasure & pride at my accomplishments. While here she didn't criticize my less than spotless house, nor my less than tame posterity. She told us all how much she loved us, how beautiful we all are, and she reminded us to count our blessings... so many blessing!Now I'm the Mother & the unconditional love is up to me. And, hopefully I'll do as well as my mother & grandmother. I'm counting on my quiet bedside lectures to be heard. And then, in the very, very end, we'll all be together, forever!
1 comment:
Fantastic post! I loved it :) Merrill and the walkman was my favorite part - what a hoot!!
Post a Comment