I have been an “Aunt” since the 3rd grade. Most the kids in my class thought I made up the title as according to them I was not old enough to be an Aunt. But I was, and the arrival of my niece was the single most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me up to that point.
When my niece was born in 1966 my brother and his wife were advised to place her in permanent custodial care with the State. The experts agreed doing so would be best for all concerned. Fortunately, her parents rejected the advice and took her home. Indeed, the first few years of her life were rough, consisting of surgeries, evaluations and lots of uncertainties. But she was a fighter and she came here with a purpose, on a mission and always attached to God.
Who knew what a blessing and gift she would be to our family? The lives she has inspired, the lives she has changed and the lives she has saved. Who knew? How could anyone in 1966 know what the future of our family would be or the role she would eventually play?
Admittedly, growing up listening to someone in constant and audible conversation with God, really makes an impression on you. Even more so when it appears she stops talking long enough to listen to an answer. Hmmmm. She has had a profound influence on my life as well as the lives of my children.
She was supposed to be a burden on everyone associated with her care. Supposedly she would never really contribute to or connect with the family. It would be better for all concerned if she weren’t here. What audacity!
Not only did God have a plan for her, he has given her the physical health and strength to carry out that plan. Perhaps God knew she would provide years of companionship for her Grandmother living alone as a widow. Perhaps God knew her challenges would teach many of us patience, tolerance and acceptance of others. Perhaps only God truly knew what was actually best for all concerned.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Hard Act To Follow
When I fall short of living an exemplary life for my daughters, I have no one to blame as I was provided the perfect role model to emulate, my Mother.
She is the living embodiment of all that is good and pure. She sets the standard as to what it means to be a virtuous wife, mother and friend. Although physically petite and somewhat frail she possesses great strength and stamina. She has always placed God, family and home first in her life, and in that order. She is the only truly selfless person I have ever encountered.
One would think after having been raised by such a woman I could have picked up at least some of her characteristics. Seems like the simple Theory of Proximity would have come into play at some point in time. Not only did I manage to avoid “catching” her strongest traits, I actually perfected many she doesn’t even possess.
My Mother could stand on her feet 12 hours a day, checking groceries, come home, cook dinner while simultaneously calling out spelling words to whomever, put the entire family down for the night and then pull out the Singer, where she might sit until the wee hours of the morning sewing. Might be an Easter Dress, Carnival Costume or patching Daddy’s khakis. I have fallen asleep many nights to the hum of that sewing machine only to awake the next morning to find my Mother, up, dressed, making breakfast with no sign of the Singer in sight.
I only mention this as I can’t recall one instance in my entire life of my Mother ever complaining. She never took naps and by all accounts appeared healthy, rested and unshaken. The pressures of life never seemed to get to her. I have to admit, in the past, I’ve been known to crumble on the kitchen floor in tears just reading the PTA notice requesting I bring cookies to Open House.
My mom offered the Singer to me when my kids were younger and I passed. Rather, I chose to hot glue their Girl Scout patches directly onto their sashes, which initially worked, sort of.
My Mother never said an unkind word to or about my Dad. Even when it was readily apparent to total strangers he was being a horse’s ass. Albeit a lovable ass. I lived with my parents for 18 straight years and never witnessed an argument. Never. I know they argued – I just don’t know where or when. It wasn’t like they could have walked over to the west wing of the house for private conversation.
Again, I clearly took a different approach with my children. I considered myself more straight-forward and open about sharing disagreements. As I look back, I wonder if my girls realized what a “treat” they were witnessing. Perhaps I should have followed my Mother’s lead.
My Mother never smoked, drank, cursed or gossiped. But the cool part was she never commented on those that did. Material items mean nothing to my Mother. Her wedding ring and a watch my Dad bought her in 1970 are the only pieces of jewelry she wears or cares anything about.
So let’s recap here. My mother is loving, kind, caring, selfless, non-judgmental, hard working and devoted to God and Family. Whew! I hope my daughters appreciate the sacrifice I made by not leaving them such an act to follow.
She is the living embodiment of all that is good and pure. She sets the standard as to what it means to be a virtuous wife, mother and friend. Although physically petite and somewhat frail she possesses great strength and stamina. She has always placed God, family and home first in her life, and in that order. She is the only truly selfless person I have ever encountered.
One would think after having been raised by such a woman I could have picked up at least some of her characteristics. Seems like the simple Theory of Proximity would have come into play at some point in time. Not only did I manage to avoid “catching” her strongest traits, I actually perfected many she doesn’t even possess.
My Mother could stand on her feet 12 hours a day, checking groceries, come home, cook dinner while simultaneously calling out spelling words to whomever, put the entire family down for the night and then pull out the Singer, where she might sit until the wee hours of the morning sewing. Might be an Easter Dress, Carnival Costume or patching Daddy’s khakis. I have fallen asleep many nights to the hum of that sewing machine only to awake the next morning to find my Mother, up, dressed, making breakfast with no sign of the Singer in sight.
I only mention this as I can’t recall one instance in my entire life of my Mother ever complaining. She never took naps and by all accounts appeared healthy, rested and unshaken. The pressures of life never seemed to get to her. I have to admit, in the past, I’ve been known to crumble on the kitchen floor in tears just reading the PTA notice requesting I bring cookies to Open House.
My mom offered the Singer to me when my kids were younger and I passed. Rather, I chose to hot glue their Girl Scout patches directly onto their sashes, which initially worked, sort of.
My Mother never said an unkind word to or about my Dad. Even when it was readily apparent to total strangers he was being a horse’s ass. Albeit a lovable ass. I lived with my parents for 18 straight years and never witnessed an argument. Never. I know they argued – I just don’t know where or when. It wasn’t like they could have walked over to the west wing of the house for private conversation.
Again, I clearly took a different approach with my children. I considered myself more straight-forward and open about sharing disagreements. As I look back, I wonder if my girls realized what a “treat” they were witnessing. Perhaps I should have followed my Mother’s lead.
My Mother never smoked, drank, cursed or gossiped. But the cool part was she never commented on those that did. Material items mean nothing to my Mother. Her wedding ring and a watch my Dad bought her in 1970 are the only pieces of jewelry she wears or cares anything about.
So let’s recap here. My mother is loving, kind, caring, selfless, non-judgmental, hard working and devoted to God and Family. Whew! I hope my daughters appreciate the sacrifice I made by not leaving them such an act to follow.
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