I spent so much of my adult life not appreciating my mom’s strengths. My dad brought humor and kindness to our lives, but my mom is the reason Julie and I are the strong people we are today. She equipped us for every situation and prepared us to navigate the world easily. She was our constant guide, talking us through every situation beforehand and then recapping after it was over. She filled us with confidence and, without us even knowing it, gave us the tools to chart our own course. She even taught us how to make the daily decision to be happy, and what to do if we weren’t. I truly thought everyone was raised this way.
She also had high expectations, and that’s where we bumped heads, because I was – and still am – lazy.
I’ve sometimes wondered if my Mom was lazy before I was born? I think she may have been because all of the photos from the 1950s (other than her yearbook) show her either in her pajamas, at the beach or at a wedding. But the minute we were born, she was always doing something. Non stop cleaning, exercising and cheering my Dad on.
My Mom cleaned, cooked, raised us and worked outside the home, too. She was a 4th-grade teacher before I was born, and once my sister turned six, she became a district substitute teacher.
She worked hard to make sure our Dad was always seen as amazing. He didn’t have to do much around the house, maybe because he wouldn’t do it right or simply lacked the initiative. Either way, I remember his only chore was mowing the lawn, which he always made a huge deal about. To combat his attitude, Mom would take us outside to cheer him on. We’d clap and whoop it up as he lifted the swing set to mow under it. After he was done, she would get down on her hands and knees on the sidewalk, edge the lawn with scissors, clean all of the outside light fixtures, sweep up after him and hose everything down. Then, she’d announce how amazing my Dad was at keeping the yard so nice. “Look at how he mows the lawn in a diagonal,” she’d say, “he is so talented.”
She cared. She listened. She made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. She died two weeks before my 48th birthday. She was only 73.
Her death came after a 3 year battle with cancer, during which I was her “person,” not my Dad, but me. Even before her illness, we talked every single day. She was the only human who cared about every word that came out of my mouth (well, Julie is a close second). She was my therapy and I didn’t even realize it. And I believe I was hers.
During her cancer years, I started a CaringBridge to share updates with family and friends on her behalf. Here are two of my favorite excerpts from the last few days of her life:
As I was folding laundry this evening, a thought came through my head — “have to call Mom tomorrow to tell her all about what’s going on at the hospice, etc. and discuss all I’ve been going through”….then I remembered. I miss the only person that listened to every word I said, all the time.
Two things my Mom always used to say when Julie and I were younger that I live by:
1. If something is bothering you, clean and your problem will go away or at least not seem as big of a deal.
2. If you can sit in a quiet room with yourself, all is well and you are ok.So today I cleaned and now as I write this I sit alone in a quiet room and I am happy. Thanks Mom.
Yes, I regret not appreciating my Mom when she was alive but I do not think it bothered her as much as I have let it bother me. I believe she was confident in knowing something that I have only come to see quite clearly recently. She saw the strength, happiness and love in me and Julie and that was all she needed. I know this to be true because I now have the joy of seeing it in my children and that is the best gift of all.
Happy Mother’s Day
Growing Up 80s 
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