The Mantle of Motherhood

Mother's Day is celebrated in May. This particular celebration day has already come and gone for this year, but when I started writing this post it had only been a few days past. I love Mother's Day. I know it's a made-up holiday (or so says my child) and a mother really should be celebrated every day, but when the actual holiday rolls around, I tend to think about "Moms" a whole lot more. It also makes me miss mine so very much. The whole week before Mother's Day, I found myself reflecting, remembering, reminiscing about all the mothers in my life. I felt so grateful, so blessed and I really was one very lucky little girl, teenage girl, college girl, young married girl, long time married girl and now a divorced girl. Some women were only in my life for a season, and others were or have been there for my whole life. There are a very few who are STILL with me. I just want to talk about them for a few minutes. Thinking about them makes me happy.

My mother, Frances, was killed in a car accident when I was three years old so I have no recollection of her whatsoever. In some ways I feel so cheated because she was taken away from me when I was so little; she herself was only 22 years old when she died. She had not even begun to live her life when it was taken so tragically. I am so thankful that she carried me and gave birth to me and loved me so fully for those three years. She was beautiful and she was sassy and strong and resilient. I think her strength was given to her by her mother, my mother passed it to me and I am thinking I have passed it on to my girl as well. The Sassyness… well, it must be in the bloodline! :) I come from a very long line of strong, independent, resilient women. A lot of their strength came from having to be strong. There was no other choice. I know I must've loved my mother too. What three-year-old doesn’t love their mother? I just wish I could remember her. I miss her. I have missed the opportunity to know her. Sometimes the longing is intense; it was especially intense when I was a young girl and I so wanted my mother just to be here with me. However, God in His infinite wisdom had a plan as He always does.

My grandmother, my mother's mother, raised me. She and my grandfather and my aunt and so many other aunts lent a hand in my raising as well. I called my grandmother Nannie. She was my mother. I learned how to live life from her. I learned how to fight and never give up. I got my stubbornness and hard-headedness from my grandmother and my mother. I'm sure of it. My grandmother loved me like no other. I was like a precious treasure to her and there was never one day of my life that I didn't know this. Not one. She told me every day, millions of times a day, that she loved me. She was so proud of me. I was beautiful and smart and could do anything I wanted to do. She gave me the courage to fly. When I was with her, I was home. She was my Home. My safe place. I sought her out when I needed to feel love or to be comforted or just to be. She let me put my head in her lap and she soothed everything in me. Her skin felt like silk to me, especially her legs. She had gorgeous legs even at 88 years of age. We had so much fun together. She made me laugh. She was everything to me. She also loved my children with every fiber of her being. They too were precious treasures to her. She doted on them and gave them anything they wanted. Oh, believe me, there were many times we didn't see eye to eye and she got on my last nerve sometimes, okay, a lot of times, but Lord, how I miss her! I need her. I so need her. She died in August of 2006 and I've missed her every single day since then. It never gets easier. Even though I am 54 years old, there are times I really need my mother. I want her. I need to be hugged and told: "I love you." I want to feel like that precious treasure again. I want to be that for someone. I need her to be here to talk about this awful that has been going on in my life and how hard it is to keep going sometimes. I want to tell her there are days I feel so alone and afraid. I just want to feel her hand on my head and breathe in the scent of her and feel her soft skin. I want to share with her my house, my very own house. Tell her how it all came to be and how excited I am to have a place to call my own. I want her to see it and come stay with me a while. Yep, mothers. If you still have yours shout "Hallelujah" and run to the phone and call her or run over to her house and grab her up and tell her how much you love her and appreciate her. I know all moms aren't wonderful and fabulous. I know this and I'm sorry if yours is one of "those." Every child deserves an awesome mother.

A slew of aunts... my Aunt Peg or Fig, my mother's sister. She was like a mother to me after my grandmother. She loved me. She protected me. She kept my secrets. My grandmother was serious "old school." She didn't believe in dancing (and a lot of other things) but I loved to dance. So my friend, Katie and I, would go out dancing after work on Fridays or Saturdays and my aunt knew it, but she kept it to herself. That was only one of many things she kept to herself. My grandmother was one of 12 children, 9 of them girls. So yes, I had a lot of aunts. Three of them lived in Asheville (Lee, Penny, and Bet) so I was at their house all the time. My grandparents owned a restaurant so they worked nearly around the clock. I stayed with my aunts a lot. I had two cousins (Charlie Brown--yes, that really is his name, and Kelly) around my age and we three were best buds.  Another aunt I spent a lot of time with was my Aunt Fran. She had two boys, Rus and Gary. Gary is one year younger than me so we were pals and we still are today. I loved it when Aunt Fran would come to Asheville because that meant sleepovers for us cousins. We really did have a great childhood and growing up together was the best. I miss those days and all of these treasured aunts and cousin times so very much. 

When I was a little girl I spent a great deal of time with this one particular family, the McKinney's--A LOT. The husband and wife and their 3 small children became a surrogate family for me. I stayed with them for weeks in the summer. I went on vacations with them. I babysat all the kids and all of three them were in my wedding in 1984. Becky, the mom, was a wonderful example of what being a "momma" meant. I learned so much from her and when I had my own children, many of the things she did with her kids, I did with mine. (including this one certain kind of baby powder. It's called "Ammens" and it is excellent for preventing diaper rash! Free Tip). Becky taught me how to cook certain things (chicken nuggets and I made them for my own kids many times/still do). She is a good woman. She is a great mother and she was so good to me. I love her. She was a big influence in my life. 

Janet Norman, Katie’s mother. Janet has been like a mom to me for nearly 40 years. When I met Katie, we were both 15 years old. We have been best friends ever since. I was always at Katie’s house so her mother became like a mom to me. She has been sending me birthday cards, birthday presents, Christmas presents for all of those almost 40 years. She has been to WV to visit me and my family when we lived there. She has been to NC to visit with me and my family. I’ve been to the beach with them several times. Janet is always interested in my life, my children’s lives. She has encouraged me and supported me. She and Katie gave me my first baby shower. She has been there for me during good times and bad. We’ve celebrated some wonderful things together. The most wonderful time we shared was the birth of her grandson. Katie and Charlie adopted him, but we were all there together when he was born. Such a happy time! She still calls me from time to time just to check in. She knows of the struggles of the past five years. She loves me. I’m thankful for her presence in my life all of these years. 

Betty Lundeen…she came into my life my senior year of college. She was my assigned teacher when I had to do my student teaching. She taught 6th grade at the time. Her students all called her “Miss Betty.” I was instantly in love with that woman. She was a fantastic teacher and her students loved her. She was a wonderful mentor for me. I wanted to be a teacher like her so I watched everything she did. I learned so much. She was also that good Southern Mama that made me (or anyone) feel so at ease. She was welcoming and helpful and generous. Love and a true genuine heart just poured out of her and still does today. She could cook like nobody’s business! She taught be how to make that Strawberry Jam I love so much. I became a part of their family and it was wonderful. Having a family when one is away at college away from one’s own family, is a true gift. Miss Betty and Pops had me over for supper all the time. Invited me to just be one of them and I loved it. I went to both of their daughter’s weddings. They came to mine. They came to the funeral home when my grandmother died. They came to the funeral home when my dad died. They live in Knoxville, TN, and I rarely ever see them, but I know if I needed anything in this world, they would do all they could to help me get it. 

Janice Bishop was the wife of my high school track coach. I met the Bishops my freshman year of high school. I went to a boarding school in Asheville, NC. Listen, when I say “boarding school,” don’t think it was some ritzy high dollar school for rich kids. It was not at.all. It was a school for many different kids, mainly missionary kids. I was not a missionary kid, but I attended all four years of high school there. Anyway, the Bishops had a small baby and I love babies so I somehow got the job of babysitter. I was one of several, but I eventually became “head babysitter” as the years went on. They lived on the bottom floor of the boys’ dorm. (I mean what teenage girl doesn’t want to go the boys’ dorm especially when one’s boyfriend lives on the same floor?!) The Bishops were also “dorm parents” so to speak. Mrs. B was also my cheerleading coach at one time. So the more I babysat, the more I became a part of their family. When school was out, I still babysat for them in the summer at times. I went on vacations with them… TN, Chicago, FL, NC… I did a lot with this family. Mrs. B was another very loving, accepting, laid back, kind, generous woman. She made all of us kids feel welcome in her home. I enjoyed being with her. Again, I watched closely as she tended her house, her children, her family. I learned. Her husband was a photographer and he took our wedding photos in 1984. Sadly, it wasn’t two months later that Mr. B had some sort of seizure and he never recovered. She was pregnant with their third child at the time. She had the baby; he was Down’s. He is 32 years old and still living with her. Her husband was in a nursing facility many miles from her. All of a sudden she became “mom and dad” and sole caregiver with all the responsibilities that entails. PLUS, she was trying to figure out how to help her husband “come back” to their family. How to make sure he was getting the medical care he needed. So much on her shoulders! I believe he lived 8 years after that initial seizure. His life, nor hers, was never the same. When we moved to Winston-Salem, she lived there as well… w/ her mother and three children. Mrs. B taught piano to my daughter for awhile. I went with her to the Bahamas one summer. And then, after awhile we lost touch with each other. We still live in the same city, but we don’t see one another. I need to change that for sure. 

Motherhood… being a mother, being a mom has got to be the single most important, most influential job on the planet. Look at the impact of several women on one girl! Wow! There were/are other women who have been a part of my life, but none more than the ones I mentioned here. They all had a hand in shaping me into the woman, the mother I am today. I hope that I have been and can be that same kind of influence on other girls who cross my path. I hope that I have taught my own daughter well. (sons also) It’s kind of like the baton that is continually being passed on from one to another in hopes that the flame will never go out. For me, there is nothing in this world that I would rather be than the mother of my four children. They became human beings while inside my body. I loved them before I ever saw them. They are my joy, my reason for never giving up. I consider “Mother” the greatest title a woman can have in her life. It is a privilege, an honor, a calling of sorts. My children are the greatest gifts God has ever given me. With those gifts, comes a responsibility greater than any other. I like to think that I’ve taken something from each of these wonderful women and included it into my own mothering ways. My life was made richer because of their presence in my life. So to all of you fabulous women, I salute you. I am grateful beyond words for all that you taught me and for the heaps of love you bestowed on me throughout my life. Thank you for teaching me about hospitality, graciousness, selflessness, generosity, family. Mostly, thank you for teaching me about motherhood, about being a mom—a real mom. I paid close attention. Your influence will always be with me. 

So Moms, wear that mantle with pride. It’s not easy what we do. We often have very ungrateful kids, kids who think we are so mean and they think we just “don’t get it,” but I keep hoping and praying that they will remember all that we’ve taught them… all the love we’ve showered on them… all we have sacrificed for them… we’ve given our children our very lives but we did so and continue to do so, with a heart full of so much love for each and every one of them. So. Much. Love. Lord willing, they will understand this kind of love one day. :) 

My heart is full of love for the women who have touched my life... and motherhood.  

Love on,

D~

xoxox