A Lesson from My Mother

I learned many lessons from my mom...really important stuff like rolling up dad's damp handkerchiefs and putting them in the fridge before ironing.  I learned that nothing compares with the smell of sheets dried on a clothesline. When dad was out of town, I could eat anything I wanted for dinner...as long as I prepared it...Cheerios was my most favorite!  I carried this tradition on with my children, except we had pancakes!  I learned that good friends are just as important as family...in some cases, more important, especially if there were problems with family!

My mother's actions taught me so very much, but her words are the lessons I remember most. The following is a story I wrote about a few of my mother's words.  I previously posted this story, but feel that it should be shared again. 

When I was in high school, my mom and I argued with each other…a lot!  I saw it as the Battle of Hormones….me just getting some and hers…well…just raging!  Eventually, we both settled down and became great friends.  She would listen to me whine for hours and then give me a hug, telling me I would “figure it out.” 

I was a lifelong dieter, always looking for that “perfect” diet that would make me thin and beautiful…and only take 24 hours! I remember sitting across the kitchen table from mom with tears rolling down my cheeks.  I asked her “why can’t I stop eating?” She just looked at me and began to cry.  She didn’t tell me that she was bulimic. With her silence, she saved me from that destructive disease. She did, however, hold me and tell me I would be okay.

After the birth of my first child, by c-section, hers was the first face I saw when I woke up.  She smiled and told me “He’s perfect!” Then she leaned in a little closer and said softly, “you can do anything!”  I smiled at her and then fell back asleep.

These four words were immediately etched upon my heart.  They spoke to me during Tommy’s all-night feedings; and when he discovered that he couldn’t walk on water…in a Jacuzzi; or, when his bike decided to kiss the sidewalk as he rounded the corner. I got used to less sleep.  I found the energy and stamina to hold it all together during the ER visits. I found the words needed to comfort him. I found I could do what had to be done, because of my mom’s words.   

I heard the words again, seconds after the thump and delayed screams of Matt, when he opened up the back of his head on the fireplace after a very creative dismount from the ottoman.  By now, I now had a reserved parking spot at the ER. I watched in horror as they tried to subdue him so they could stitch him up.  He kicked and screamed, and refused to stay still long enough to for them to have any success. They even put him in a pediatric straight jacket; he got out!  He finally passed out from exhaustion, which gave the doctors time to do their thing, and me a few minutes to regroup and focus.  “I can do this” said that little voice inside of me. 

And the time that Edie wandered off from the beach blanket because she saw better snacks somewhere else.  That was the longest 15 minutes of my life!  My first words were, “God, please help me find her!” I put my trust in God, and the hunting party of dad and her brothers as we scoured the sea of blankets and umbrellas.  A force drew me to a large family enjoying their lunch. There she was! They had DONUTS! We didn’t have donuts! I wanted to squeeze the life out of her and scold her for leaving but the words that came from my lips were loving and full of joy at seeing her again.  As we walked away, I thanked God, my mom and her new adopted family.

   

Kara was so sensitive that she would cry at the change of weather.  One day, out of the blue, she began to sob uncontrollably. I said to myself, “Help me out here, Mom.” My mind flew back to my acting days when I had to sing for a test in voice class.  As I sang “Pretty Little Horses” and gently rocked her, she calmed down…so much…that I had to check her pulse!  When she was 20 and we were 2,000 miles from home, she began sobbing yet again, desperately trying to hold it in.  She told me that she had chest pains and her left arm hurt. Having heart disease in the family, I wasted no time. I found the strength to get her to the nearest ER (where I had to fight for a parking spot). It wasn’t her heart; it wasn’t gastro; it wasn’t her lungs; it wasn’t imaginary!  She was still in pain.  I thought of Shirley MacLaine in “Terms of Endearment” when she was screaming for meds for her daughter…MY DAUGHTER IS IN PAIN! JUST GIVE HER SOMETHING FOR HER PAIN!!!  A firm hand from above covered my mouth and my words were kind, and to the point. I will never forget the look of euphoria on her face when the morphine kicked in.  I thanked God for taking away her pain, and my mom for holding me together. 

   

The words, “You Can Do Anything” never had deeper meaning than on the day I found my mom unresponsive at home. You see, it was only three months after she had first spoken the words to me.  My life as a mother had just begun. 

“Not now, please God, not now” I sobbed as the tears began to flow. I felt a stirring deep inside of my soul which took control and guided me through the next few days. My mom’s words gave me the courage to be strong for my dad, my brothers and a very long list of friends.  Over the years, her friends reached out to me with motherly advice (probably her doing), and her sister, Alice, became “Grandma” to each of my four children giving them the very best ever “Grandma” memories. 

 

My mother’s words have helped me achieve goals in my life that I never thought were possible. After a lifetime of being a food addict, I discovered the way out; I found that I had a passion for writing and I delight in how it makes me feel; I learned that I can actually let go of “things and people” and live to tell about it; but most importantly, I found a way to change how I see the world. Now, I laugh, I dance and I hug total strangers!  I reach out to others and pass along these four magical words, “you CAN do anything!” 

Tag…You’re It! 

Thank you for stopping by today.  My post is brought to you by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.  Please click here to visit her page where you will be find writings of some very talented people that will delight you!   

Gridiron and Tutus

Welcome to Writer's Workshop, a weekly collection of posts by very creative bloggers who are inspired by prompts offered by Mama Kat. This week I was drawn to the prompt of "football."  I used to be a die-hard Rams fan when they were in Los Angeles. However, when they moved...and I moved...ironically to the same new city...my interest wained and I found other outlets to replace the over-priced tickets, parking, snacks....etc.!  I found that my kids loved sports and I could enjoy a good soccer or football game from the comfort of my beach chairs and blanket!

I was elated when my boys showed an interest in playing football. I grew up watching my brothers play and watching games on TV with my dad.  I even dreamed of playing myself, but it was unheard of girls playing football back in the 60's! I still loved the game, just not the dog-and-pony show that it had become.  My boys played through middle and high school, and that was enough for me. I knew that at some point, it would end...I thought.

It was then that Edwina, my middle schooler at the time, expressed an interest in playing football.  She had played soccer, basketball, volleyball and took dance classes.  The Mister and I talked it over and agreed to let her give it a try, but she had to agree to finish the whole season, even if she hated it!  She was so excited, I thought she would jump out of her skin.  We found a local football organization that had never had a girl play, but that had nothing in their charter that prohibited girls from playing.  They let her register.  I don't know who was more excited...Edwina or mom!  I couldn't wait to watch another child of mine play the game!

The practices were grueling but she hung in there for all of them.  The majority of her teammates treated her as an equal, although there were a few that just couldn't accept that there was a "girl" on their team!  She was just as strong as any of the boys, but her conditioning was not on the same level.  She never let them see her sweat and she never complained of pain!

The day of her first game arrived.  It was August...hot and muggy!  After the second play, she realized just how out of condition she was and asked the coach to take her out of the game!!!  The coach made her stay in and told her never to make that request again!  As the season progressed, Edwina gained the confidence, the strength and the determination of a true football player and could stand toe to toe with anyone...in her division!  She became quick and agile, and even sacked a few quarterbacks.

Edwina understood the plays and strategies of the game and when asked questions by the coaches she was the first to get that hand up in the air.  She could talk football with anyone (except her girlfriends...they just didn't understand...but they loved to come to her games and check out the "boy" players!)  She managed to get through two seasons with no major injuries, just bumps and bruises.  I was called into the school nurse's office to explain some of those "bumps and bruises."

By the time Ed reached high school, the boys on her team had grown into much larger players than when she first played with them.  Her 5'3" stature, along with her lack of really, really large muscle mass, helped with the decision to not play another year. She legally could have joined the team, but my head and heart felt that she would either get hurt while playing, or get frustrated sitting on the bench.  Thank God for Field Hockey!

Ed will always have those memories, and so will I! In a way, I finally got to experience playing the game through her.  She taught me that sometimes dreams can come true if we are willing to work hard and be prepared for the best.

Thanks for stopping by today.  Please drop by Mama Kat's Writers Workshop and enjoy the stories of other inspiring bloggers!