The Daughter Files

The view on one daughter’s Facebook wall today…

Being a mother is like trying to juggle 15 balls at once. Flaming balls. While someone throws marbles at you. And you are on a unicycle blindfolded in a rainstorm. And there are 5 people talking to you all at once then getting mad because you didn’t answer and clearly didn’t listen. And they want to know if you were a superhero and could fly over hot lava would your cape catch on fire and who built the first yurt and how long would you live if you had no eyeballs. And the math. Sweet Jesus. The math. It all sounds like: if Tom has 7 oranges and Paul has 13 triangles, how long would it take Susie to travel West 3.5 miles if she is wearing a green shirt? Explain how you got your answer. And then when you get mad at them for a sassy comment they say “God wants you to calm down.” And how can you argue with that?!?! Then 5 minutes later they tell you you are the best mommy ever and they love you more than the whole wide universe to infinity and beyond. And your heart melts and you think…can I remember this moment forever? The way they smile at you like you have all the answers and how their sweet faces look when they sleep. And even though you have fallen asleep in every movie you have tried to watch for the last 10 years you realize how blessed and thankful you are to wake up and do it all over again. This crazy, loud, amazing life. I can’t get enough.

And this on other daughter’s wall another day…

I love when God decides to show off a little. When He subtly nudges me and reminds me that He is way ahead of me – and he has totally GOT this. I especially like it when this occurs at a time when I am not so self-absorbed that I miss it. Today was what I call a “Hindenburg Day”. It was a day when nothing went as expected – and there were casualties. It started off with me turning the dryer on WITH THE CAT IN IT, and ended with my son telling me I should try to be nicer tomorrow. I began counting down the hours ’till bedtime right after lunch, and I limped across the finish line tonight and fell into my bed feeling pretty much like an epic failure who is systematically destroying my children’s lives and futures – just by breathing. I spent a few minutes fantasizing about flying off alone to an unpopulated tropical island with a suitcase of books and a carry-on full of chocolate. Then I opened a book I’ve been reading and the VERY FIRST words I read were these

You are stronger than you know.
You are loved more than you realize.
You are part of a greater plan, and nothing can stop God’s purposes for you.
You’re going to be okay.
I promise. But more importantly: God promises.
Take heart, friend. Good things are ahead.

So, I guess…as my dear friend, Lemuel would say…”‘Nuff said.”

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Mother’s Day – 1947

Mom lived to be 93 years young. She died May 16, 2005. We all miss her very much.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers. May your day be special.

The majority of countries that celebrate Mother’s Day do so on the second Sunday of May. On this day, it is common for Mothers to be lavished with presents and special attention from their families, friends and loved ones. But it wasn’t always this way. Only recently dubbed “Mother’s Day,” the highly traditional practice of honoring Motherhood is rooted in antiquity, and past rites typically had strong symbolic and spiritual overtones; societies tended to celebrate Goddesses and symbols rather than actual Mothers. The maternal objects of adoration ranged from mythological female deities to the Christian Church itself. The personal, human touch to Mother’s Day is a relatively new phenomenon. Only in the past few centuries did celebrations of Motherhood develop a decidedly human focus.

That human focus for me is shown in this photograph. I am the baby in the picture. Two more younger brothers came in the six years after this photo. Our mother was a tireless worker and loved us all with her whole being. Keeping up with the demands of the farm home, the school work, the church going, discipline, and cooking non-stop must have been exhausting. My brother said we had a wringer clothes washer at the time of this picture. Fortunate for her. I remember always having three long clothes lines in the yard, usually drooping under the weight of our clothes. Apparently, the dryer didn’t come until much much later.

In addition to the duties and pleasures of being our mother, she also kept some diary and journal entries for some occasions. I think she could have done many other kinds of productive things in her life. She chose this course and gave it her entire being. Below is a note transcribed from her writing. It clearly expresses the events of that special day in 1947.

Mothers Day – May – 1947 7 children – oldest is 12 – Jim, baby, 3 mos., 4 yr. old twins 7:15 A.M.    Got up Made coffee & got breakfast Put a roast in the oven Made 2 salads Bathed & dressed Jimmy – the baby The kids gave me my Mothers Day gifts Martha is sick & about to throw up Ronnie broke a shoe lace in his Sunday shoes Janie upset half a gallon of milk on the floor & table Got them off to church Martha is sick again Called Mom & wished her a happy day Made the beds – one was wet so it was all to change Took 34 diapers off the rack & folded them Washed the breakfast dishes Dusted the floors 11 o’clock John & the kids are home from church – My folks came with them Got dinner & did up the dishes then we went to Blandinsville Took Grandma R her Mothers Day gift Helen & Wendell & Grandpa & Grandma R came out for the evening. Wendell fixed our yard light & we made a freezer of ice cream. Helen & Grandma R & I took my folks home to Raritan Came back and visited a while and they all left. Got the kids off to bed and went myself.