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I was born in the 60’s; a time when there were race riots and war protests along with many other political events, we were in the middle of the Vietnam war,  but I was too young to really know what was going on. By the time I was three years of age, President Johnson signed the voting act to prohibit racial discrimination, Martin Luther King was assassinated, Robert Kennedy Jr was assassinated, and the Apollo 8 landed on the moon. There were many other events that went on in that 3 year period, and after, but it paints a picture.  During my very young years, my Mom was busy with me as the baby of the family and 6 other children living at home.  My oldest brother moved out when I was 4, my next oldest when I was 5. Slowly, the house grew a little more empty, but there were always siblings until I was 14.  I love coming from a big family!  

I know we grew up relatively poor, but I didn’t realize it.  My Mom taught me gratitude for what God blessed us with.  I was grateful for new clothes, or hand-me-downs; it taught me to appreciate what I had.  I was tickled when we drove around looking at Christmas lights during the holiday season; it taught me to appreciate the little things.  I so enjoyed  going to the pool in the summer; it was a blast and taught me to be a part of the community and have fun. When we played after dinner, we were out until the streetlights came on; it taught me responsibility and how to run, jump, use my muscles and have fun. Large family dinners and get-togethers taught me to share and take my turn, it also taught me that the world didn’t revolve around me.  We didn’t get a ton of gifts during the year, but we did at Christmas time; that taught me patience and appreciation for the gifts I received. Sharing a room with sisters until I was 14 taught me respect for others, patience when I wanted to sleep and they didn’t, it taught me how to have fun giggling into the middle of the night, and how to overcome fear as I walked to bed in anticipation of someone hiding underneath waiting to grab at my feet. It taught us how to play together, fight together and work it out, throw plays together and show our productions to our parents. We listened to music on our 45 record player; we still listen to music together today!  Oh the fun we had!

Other things my Mom taught me; unless you are throwing up or running a fever, you should plan on going to school (and later to work); you made a commitment and you need to keep up with it. We received an allowance for doing chores around the house; it taught us the value of money. You should smile; no one appreciates a grumpy face. Don’t be a know-it-all, but do try to learn, both at school and in life.  Trust must be earned, and when you break it, you have to re-earn it, which takes a lot longer. A Mother’s love is unconditional; really!  You can always go home to Mom (and Dad).  An evil eye and a bit of guilt can go a long way to make you want to do the right thing.  Praying is a really good thing. Saying I’m sorry goes a long way.  Being kind doesn’t cost you anything but can change a person’s life. There will always be someone in greater need than you; so you should be generous. Money isn’t everything; family is. Hard work is good for you. Pain is inevitable, but staying in it isn’t.  In life you have to get up and go on, move on, press on, and learn. 

Of course, my Dad had a part in these lessons, but he was the quiet one. He wasn’t the disciplinarian, he was the one who went to work and brought the paycheck home. My Mom didn’t get a job until I was in kindergarten. She was too busy at home with us to be able to work outside of the home all day.  My Mom would say to me (after getting into trouble), wait until your Dad gets home so you can tell him what you did.  Ouch! Now, let me get this clear;  my Dad never yelled at me or hit me.  Ever.  Oh, the shame of facing him knowing that he would be disappointed in me was enough.  Looking back, I don’t think he ever said he was disappointed in me. It was a well, orchestrated move on my Mom’s part to make me think about what I did for a while.  Good one Mom! I do remember, after a rough teenage patch, trying to grow up and be responsible. I must have been succeeding and doing okay because one day, when I came home from school, there was a Journey album on my bed, it was Escape with Don’t Stop Believing on it.  I never asked her for that album; she knew I loved that band and didn’t have that album. I bet I drove them crazy playing that album and that song over and over!

 I also remember the time I drove my parents car to the grocery store and bumped into another car as I was backing out.  I went home, told my Mom and she was cool about it.  When my Dad got home, he said “it’s only metal, at least nobody was hurt”. Wow, that was cool.  There are so many good memories of playing games with my Mom, when I was young, coloring with her, waiting until my Dad got home so us girls could paint his toenails and curl his hair. True story.  Yes, we were poor; we ate lots of potatoes and corn, which used to be cheap.  We wore clothes that weren’t the most expensive.  We didn’t live in a fancy house. What they taught me was unconditional love, respect, and appreciation for life and hard work.  I wouldn’t be the person I am today without my Mom’s lessons. Sometimes, I feel like my mantra is much like the song “Don’t stop believing”.  I love you Mom; thanks for pushing me, coaching me, punishing me, rewarding me, and loving me. Unconditionally.