After living long-distance from my parents for over 25+ years, last May, we moved my mom from Ohio to Georgia to be closer to us. She is in an assisted living community nearby. And though there is help provided, I still spend a good bit of time now caring for my mom. And sometimes it is hard. Really hard. Because aging is really hard. But, mostly, I am grateful for this opportunity to have my mom close and to be more involved in her life and have her in ours.
For Mother's Day this weekend, we had mom stay with us and did our best to treat her like a queen. I won’t say she likes to be treated like a queen. But … she likes to be treated like a queen! :) And who doesn't? Fine china and tea with the perfect amount of lemon and sugar, flower bouquets, new pajamas, phone calls from out of town family, church and brunch, grandchildren and a glass of wine. You get the picture. It was a lovely day for her and for all of us. It brought her joy … and that brought me joy.
Isn’t it true, so often our own joy comes from doing things for others? Especially those, like our moms, who have done so much for us. I wasn’t exactly an easy child. I’m pretty sure at age 14 she would have liked to ship me off to boarding school or an island somewhere far away. But we made it through those years and she was faithful in her love and patience and prayers. And here we are full circle and this mother who mothered me is now being a bit mothered by me. Because that is sort of what also must happen. The circle of life. Did I mention it can be hard? It’s hard for her. It’s hard for me. Hard, and yet, holy.
Because it’s also a great privilege to have this chance to do so. I know not every person gets this opportunity at this juncture in life. Somedays I must remind myself of that.
Just like I had to do when I had a house full of small children and I found myself feeling overwhelmed and out numbered and crying in a locked bathroom. Even when I wanted to ship my own 14 year old daughters off to boarding school or a far away island. I loved them all dearly, but some days were just plain challenging. That is such a part of motherhood. Daughterhood. Womanhood. Personhood. Life.
Mothering requires a grit and a grace that isn’t easily put into words, but like the pains of labor, we often forget the anguish or sorrow or difficult days when we recall how sweet and good a gift it is.
As Mother’s Day came to a close yesterday and Bella and I drove mom back to her apartment, my mom began to tell us some sweet things she had been recently remembering about each of her four kids when we were little. She doesn’t always talk this way and so it was a precious moment for us to share with her. At one point I quietly asked Bella to hit the record button on my phone so I could save these little stories. This morning I woke up and decided I’d leave them in this post today as they brought me joy.
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The summer before my older brother Doug was getting ready to head off to Kindergarten he and my mom were out for a walk together. He was six years old and still held her hand tightly. As they strolled by the school building where he would begin in just a month or so, she asked him if he was excited to start Kindergarten soon. Doug answered saying, “Yeah, I think so. But ...” He paused a bit before continuing on, “Mom, will you be missing me like I’ll be missing you?” My mom told us she could still see him looking up, his tiny hand in hers, and asking that question so earnestly and sweetly. She assured him she would indeed be missing him.
As second born, I was the next story in line. Mom shared with us that in 2nd grade my teacher, Mrs. Hanek, often told her that I talked entirely too much in class, but that she couldn’t quite figure out how to prove it. She said every time she heard me talking she’d quickly turn and ask me a question to see if I was paying attention. Apparently she wanted to catch me not following along, but, try as she did, I always seemed to have just the right answer at the right time even though I was very busy chatting with a neighbor classmate. Dear Betsy Hanak said to my mom, “Your Jody doesn’t miss a beat, does she? I bet she is going to be a bit of a multi-tasker when she grows up.” My mom was laughing as she relayed Mrs. Hanak's comment about me all of those years ago. Since that 2nd grade year she has, indeed, gotten to watch her oldest daughter multi-task a time or two.
Jessica is the third born and one of mom’s favorite memories of Jess was when in pre-school her teacher, Mrs. Cavanaugh, shared that she found herself in a bit of a pickle having Jessica in her classroom because every time the class had to pair up to cross the street or line up with a partner for an activity, everybody wanted to choose Jess to be their partner or buddy. Her classmates would literally argue and sometimes even cry over who got to hold Jess’ hand. This never surprised my mom (or me hearing this story yesterday) as Jess has always been a good friend to everyone and the friend everyone always wanted to call as their own.
Nicole is the “baby” of the four, but this number in birth order has never come close to defining her. She is one of the strongest, smartest, and most confident women I know. Appreciating my sister as much as I do today, Mom’s story about her might have tickled me the most. When Nicole was just a tiny little thing—maybe 6 or 7 months old—my mom, after bathing Nicole one evening, held her up in front of the mirror wrapped in her towel. Nicole looked at herself and then pointed at the mirror and said loudly and clearly her very first word, “Baby!” Though Nicole has always confidently known who she is, she also has never let a label define her, baby or not! My mom told us that Nicole talked early and often, not unlike her oldest sister. I bet Mrs. Hanak probably came close to throwing in the towel a little when many years later Nicole entered her 2nd grade classroom. Another talkative Seaman sister. No surprise that today Nicole is not only an avid reader and wonderful writer, but is also masterful in her use of vocabulary. Mrs. Hanak would be proud. Her oldest sister sure is.
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If you’ve made it through these little stories about my siblings and me, thank you for reading. I write them to remind us all that even in difficult times, God is faithful to provide the kindest moments and the sweetest memories. Mom isn't remembering everything these days and so I am thankful she recalled these little childhood snip its. It was lovely getting the chance to hear her tell these particular stories on the short car ride back. A day like Mother's Day can be such a mixture of emotions. Like life, it encompasses so much. And so on this Monday afterward, I want to encourage us, regardless of the labor pains of life, to remember the joy available and abundant.
Perhaps it is feeling as if "the hour has come" for you. You are in the heat of it. In the hot seat of anguish or grief or a grueling labor. But there will be a time where you will remember the good past and the good to come and joy will find you once again.
“When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for JOY that a child is born into the world.” ~ John 16:21
1 comment:
Love this. Thanks for sharing. You are an awesome inspiring lady.
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