May 10 2009
Mother is the word for god on the lips of all children
“I think sometimes that had I known she would not survive her illness, I might have written a different book - less a meditation on the absent parent, more a celebration of the one who was the single constant in my life. In my daughters I see her every day, her joy, her capacity for wonder. I won’t try to describe how deeply I mourn her passing still. I know that she was the kindest, most generous spirit I have ever known, and that what is best in me, I owe to her.”
– Barack Obama on his late mother.
This year, Mother’s Day is less about the simple celebration og mothers and more a chance to reflect on the love children have for their mothers. My ex used to get very annoyed with my relationship with my mother. When he would start complaining, I would give him a simple answer accompanied with a shrug. “She’s my mother.”
Like Obama, growing up, for a long time, it was just me and my mom. And, even after the birth of my sister, she made it a point to spend time alone with me. From my mom, I learned the ability to love without reservation and to express it whole-heartedly. My childhood was full of hugs and kisses and other expressions of affection. In the evenings, I would sit on the arm of her easy chair drinking tea.
During the lazy days of summer, my mom would take my sister and I on adventures across the county. We’d look for indian beads on unpaved roads and track down long forgotten cemetaries and parks using a 50 year old map. She used these trips to teach my sister and I some degree of thoughtfullness about the history of the area; the indians who camped on the banks of the St. Joe river and the settlers who raised and buried their children. From my mother I learned to be grateful and appreciative of simple pleasures. Those trips hold a great deal of meaning for me now, and are something I want to repeat with my children.
There is something satisfying about picking a handful of wild mulberries and munching them as you dig through the stony riverbank looking for traces of people long since past. There’s a lot of fun to be had in learning to identify the local flora and for what purpose they were used. From my mother, I learned the many different ways to be creative and that there is rarely only one right answer. We identified many of the area’s wildflowers and learned medicinal and practical uses for them. We planted gardens every year, trying new plants and improving on the old ones.
She taught me to cross stitch, crochet, write and read. She encouraged (and still does) some of my more interesting plans and ideas. She has always been there for me to talk to and has always made me feel loved. Even now, at my ripe old age of 30, I adore my mom. I always will.
