I thought that I’d publicly acknowledge on your birthday a gift you gave me on my birth day so many years ago.
The gift of life is a wonderful thing, of course what I did with that gift was all my doing, and you should be absolved for all the mistakes I have ever made. But as a mother you would know that.
The fact that I recognize I made mistakes is testimony to your skills as a mother, and what you taught. I know we didn’t always agree with each other, but we did love each other, and it was you who was the first to laugh at me, cry for me, and keep me on level ground, when my head just might get bigger than it was already.
I think our biggest connection was from your wonderful mind, down through your right arm, through the wooden spoon, and finally resting on my cranial composition, which was known as “Gentle persuasion” by you. The fact that I have a photographic mind, that is one with a picture of your face as I do something I might consider questionable, which gives me pause to think doesn’t hurt.
But the gift of life is a very large and expensive gift, one you can’t buy, but one we all get. You taught me that devaluation would be criminal, that idleness and uselessness were not to be accessories. Self-pity was for others, and hard work, responsibility were the only alternatives.
Oh, you gave me gifts afterward, an older sister that was so very special all those years I grew up, and three wonderful and beautiful sisters afterward, all were great gifts, and fell under the ‘gift of life’ category.
You taught me not to make excuses for any problems, physical or mental that I may have had, that life has to go on, you must stay in step with the drummer, one foot in front of the other, until the final note is played.
You showed me what loyalty is, that family matters, and no one should violate our trust in one another: that any squabble must stay in the confines of the house. When I didn’t have money to go to college, I knew, just from being your son, I would have to go out and earn it. So I took two jobs and that was the end of it.
If I hadn’t learn those lessons, like respect for women, for country, and most of all God, I would be a total mess, without my own beautiful family. You showed me how to live with physical pain and adversity, failure as a tool and success as just another step forward.
As a very young child you taught me my prayers, where I lived, and what my name is, in 5th grade you listened to my poem by Joyce Kilmer about trees, in junior high school, again you sat there to hear my lines as Mr. Bones in the seventh grade minstrel show. It seemed you were always there to listen, a proving ground for success, and your face always in front of me as I feared failure.
Finally, you supported me as I worked and struggled to pay my way through college, the meals kept hot in the oven as I returned home, late from classes in college. It was your encouragement and acceptance of the wonderful lady I married.
In all those years, there were never too many tears, but always laughter, infectious laughter, that emanated from your mouth and into my soul.
I was probably the worst son anyone could possibly have, and for that I apologize, but I had the best childhood anyone could have, and for that I am grateful.
Happy Birthday Mom, I love you.
2 comments:
What a touching tribute to a wonderful mom! It made me cry!
Nice post Joseph.
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