Mothers' Day Memories

I stared down at the tiny baby nestled in my arms. My life had changed forever. I was a mother.

Until I became a mother, I did not fully appreciate my own mom. Her years of mothering me rubbed off on me as I started my own journey.

When I unpacked my cedar chest recently, I discovered my bronzed baby shoes. The aged slippers attached to a wooden frame brought back numerous memories.

Memory fragments sprinkled through my mind. In the kitchen I munched on raw potato slices while my mother prepared our meals. Her delicious food included Sunday pot roasts surrounded by carrots and potatoes. Hearty meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and fresh green beans satisfied our hunger. All types of jello concoctions joined Velveeta cheese sandwiches slathered with mayonnaise. Homemade applesauce, strawberries, cakes, and cookies added to our enjoyment.

For years I ate with little thought to the work that went with it. Only when I was old enough to be of help—not always my choice—did I realize how difficult and time consuming it was. I saw little fun in opening pea pods, hulling strawberries, and weeding the garden. During canning time, the stifling kitchen with no air conditioning seemed unbearable. There was no option but to silk the corn, snap the beans, and peel the apples. To feed our growing family, she canned and later froze a variety of homegrown foods. Stores displayed few convenience items, and restaurant meals were a special treat. At Christmas our home was filled with delectable cookie, breads, and favorite candies. Our kitchen was a busy place.

Having children only eighteen months apart meant a mountain of cloth diapers that had to be washed and dried. Bottles were sterilized and little outfits ironed since wash and wear was unheard of at that time.

I remember living in nine houses in various localities. Some were short moves and a couple longer distances. Those moves meant packing and unpacking, making new friends, finding another church, and helping the rest of us adjust to our new homes.

After three children, she decided to start college. In spite of her family duties, she became a teacher after many years of classes and then earned a masters’ degree. Until I entered college, I did not understand the commitment that she needed to reach her goal.

Through each stage of my life, mother was available but not intrusive. She taught me how to be a mother, wife, and friend. I do not remember many of the words, but I do recall numerous examples. I have also tried to instill Christian values and beliefs into my children and grandchildren. I realize that they may not remember my words but I hope I am a good example.

I have had several years as a grandmother, many as a mother, and a host having a mother. I am thankful that she continues to be a part of my life. Happy Mothers’ Day to my mom. I also wish a wonderful Mothers' Day to moms, step moms, foster moms, and moms in love. Enjoy your day. You are changing the world.