As I sit here typing, I have begun this post three times already and my tablet seems hell bent on thwarting my mission of reflection. (I am now saving after every sentence.) I find myself both laughing and crying inside as I listen to the sounds of my children “working together” to make me breakfast in bed. One is demanding that the other wash their hands, resulting is the co-collaborator pouting on the couch. One brought me waffle number one, and the other needed to follow suit. Now I have two waffles with whipped cream and strawberries, and two kids who can’t seem to get along. (My husband was off early to play bass at church.) Both children have visited my bedroom separately, one to help me eat one of the waffles and the other to apologize for ruining my mother’s day. Doesn’t it all warm the heart? This is motherhood, folks.
I actually started out this post with a specific memory of my mother in mind and got side-tracked with that delicious waffle business. What came to mind was a time when I felt tangibly lonely for my mom. I was at a sleep away Girl Scout camp. It was called “Saddle-Up” because we spent two weeks learning all about horses: riding them, grooming them, helping take people on trail rides, etc. Before I left for camp, my mother and I hit the mall near our then home of Northridge, CA. My dad was working in Sherman Oaks at the time, so we went to what was then known as “The Galleria” and strolled through little shops picking up tester shampoos and soaps for my week at camp. It was nothing out of the ordinary for a mom and daughter, but in the context of being away from her at camp I found myself holding onto that moment like a toddler’s blanket. I remember feeling miserably homesick, not for home, but simply for the presence of being with my mom at the mall.
I love that memory can bring back a very particular season of life and the joy of my mom’s presence in something very simple. I have plenty of those tucked away in my storage, and am so thankful for the childhood I was gifted. I love you, mom. I am sorry for plenty of years where I was wrapped up in my own issues or fighting with my siblings about something or other instead of celebrating you. As a mother myself now, I realize how thankless mothering can be but also how small moments with my kids can become life-long memories together. There is nothing quite like this amazing role. What a gift you gave me in your own model of presence. Thanks for your prayers through the years, listening ear, sweet moments together, and a life-long friendship.
Now back to the waffle-eating….