Not-so-standard Mother's Day post

I debated about whether or not to post today for so many reasons. Things that had long been won have returned to a struggle. The one place people like me should feel loved and accepted has historically been the very place to stay away from because of the focus today. I'm referring to church. Fortunately it's gotten much better over the years. Our guest speaker today shed light on he and his wife's personal struggle with infertility but because it's always been taboo to discuss in church, it became the single greatest struggle they'd had in their married life. I remembered with him the agonizing 15 minutes spent each Mother's Day during the service to applaud the oldest mother in attendance, the youngest, the one with most kids, and on and on. It would have been better for them just to stab me in the heart.

But in the end of my internal debate, I knew it was the right thing to do in honor of my mom. My family celebrated last night because my brother was in town and we had a really nice time together. I did not leave gift-less either. Erica & Peter bought me a box of chocolates (I feel like Forrest Gump as I write that and again as I've re-read it). As we drove from EBC to CBC this morning, my thoughts wandered to how Steve wouldn't be able to call and say "Happy Mother's Day mom!" He's never been able to do that in his entire adult life. The last Mother's Day they spent together was just a few short days before she lost her battle to cancer. Steve was 16.

So today I am very grateful that I still have my mom. She provided an amazing childhood in spite of the fact that her own would be considered by many as dysfunctional. They were poor in an era when nobody was really concerned if they had enough to eat. They were ridiculed for being poor and having nothing. Her mother cared little for her, if at all. She was one of 13 children, 10 lived past the age of 5. Maybe in her child rearing years she decided to do the opposite of everything her mom did. If so, it worked out well.

I love my mom for so many reasons, chief among them is how she taught me to deal with my muscular dystrophy from the very beginning. I'm sure it was a tough line for her to take but she knew it was best to refuse to let me wallow in self pity. She also taught me how to run a house on very little when necessary--undoubtedly a skill that will carry me through these slim times.

My mom also sacrificed tremendously for all of us. She went without new clothes so we could wear fashionable outfits. In our young years she stayed up half the night sewing clothes for us, and our Barbie dolls too. And these are just a very small tip of the proverbial iceberg.

A final memory for today is when I was in 3rd grade, walking home from school with my birthday crown adorned beautifully on my head. My teacher made all of us a crown to wear on our birthdays so we each felt special at some point during the year. As Shiela and I journeyed home, one of the boys that lived down the block pushed me in the bushes causing my crown to rip in two. I was devastated. I cried the rest of the way home and when I arrived, my mom was there (as she always was after school) and with great care, she fixed my crown. While it was a simple thing for her, it meant the world to me. That day, and so many others, she was my hero.

Thanks mom -- for so many things, the least of which was fixing my crown. Thanks for loving me, supporting me, guiding me and sacrificing for me. You took the job of raising your kids seriously. You've done well, good and faithful servant...and your Father is fixing a crown for you too. It will be well deserved. I love you.