Mother's Day is Not About Me

As a preacher's kid, it seems like the focus of Mother's Day when I was growing up had to do with the Sunday morning service. I don't remember specifically doing anything for my own mother, though I'm sure we did. Rather, my memories are of Dad having all the mothers assemble at the front of the sanctuary to be presented with some small gift. Then he would preach about the Proverbs 31 woman or another passage of scripture appropriate to the occasion. With such a special service each spring, I came to understand how blessed mothers were. After all, there was not a Children's Day you know! Dad has a sincere love and admiration for his wife (my mother), his own mother, and his mother-in-law... and he always included them as examples to look up when he talked about the sacredness of motherhood.

Later, as a young wife, the traditional Mother's Day service took on a bittersweet note for me. I was happy for the opportunity to honor my own mother, but I longed to be a mother myself. Mother's Day became a painful reminder of our childlessness for several years. When God brought our beautiful daughters into our home after seven years of marriage, motherhood was not something I took for granted. 

For the past 22 years on Mother's Day, I haven't expected to be honored with gifts and pampering, because you see, it's not about me. Motherhood is definitely not without its challenges, but I've never thought of it as a job or a duty deserving of honor. Rather I consider it a privilege.

He maketh the barren woman to keep house, 

and to be a joyful mother of children. 

Praise ye the Lord. 

Psalm 113:9 

On Mother's Day each year I thank God for two women I've never met... the women who chose life for my precious children. It has truly been a joy to raise them... and they make me proud every day!

I am also so very grateful for my own mother, who set a perfect example of what a mother should be. Turns out, Daddy was onto something when he used her (and MawMaw and Grandmother) as illustrations in his Mother's Day sermons.

I am blessed!

The Gift

Two weeks after Christmas.

We were staying with my sister. We had been waiting for a phone call for almost a month. Finally it came.

"Your baby has arrived! Would you like to come meet her?"

The maternity section of the hospital was quiet that January evening. We washed our hands and donned scrubs as instructed, and they led us to an empty patient room. And we waited again.

But not too long. Pretty soon the nurse wheeled in the bassinet. She carefully lifted the tiny, blanket-wrapped bundle and laid our newborn daughter into my arms.

And in that moment, I became a mother.

It is, most assuredly, not a gift I take for granted.

Not flesh of my flesh
Nor bone of my bone,

But still miraculously my own.

Never forget for a single minute,

You didn't grow under my heart,

But in it.

Happy Birthday, Laura!

Graduation Day

 

The third Saturday in June was a beautiful day for a backyard graduation. The late afternoon sun filtering through the trees made a lovely setting for the girl graduate in her pink cap and gown. (She was the only graduate in her "class" so she got to choose the color.)

Her teacher (me)... and her "principal" (her dad)... made a few comments and presented her with her diploma.

Then her pastor-grandpa shared some thoughts and offered a blessing. The gathered friends blew bubbles at her as she tossed her cap into the air.

And with that... my homeschooling journey was over.

 Sixteen years I've invested in my children's education. Long days of wondering if we were covering everything we should be. Delightful days reading piles of wonderful stories. Challenging days when nothing seemed to go as planned. But oh, it was so worth it!

 As my mother and I previewed the PowerPoint presentation that I put together for the celebration, she commented, "The years have gone by almost as fast as those slides are changing." I agree with her. How could sixteen years possibly have gone by already?

My emotions have been bittersweet. In some ways, I wish I could go back and do some things differently. On the other hand, I'm excited to see what the future has in store for my now-adult children.

I am so grateful that I had the privilege of being home with them all throughout their childhood. Motherhood is a blessing I don't take for granted.

An Exceptional Mother

Going through old family pictures lately, I liked this one of my mother and her daughters taken about 1974. (I especially like how my bright blue socks coordinate so well with my yellow and white dress! Probably there was some minuscule speck of blue in the floral pattern that I thought the socks "matched.")

I have an exceptional mother... and that's not just my opinion, many of my friends tell me so. One of the things I most appreciate and admire about her is how much she has always enjoyed her children. She had 5 of us in 5 years (with a set of twins, as you can see-- so we were spaced about a year-and-a-half apart). We usually lived in small houses and things were often chaotic, so it's hard for me to imagine actually enjoying having 5 little kids underfoot. You would think she would be relieved to send us off to school so she could actually get things done, but she wasn't. She actually liked having us home, and dreaded to see school start in the fall. Homeschooling wasn't a "thing" in the 1970s, or she probably would have done that.

And now, she's an exceptional grandmother. My kids call her almost daily. I wonder if the other 9 grandchildren do, too. She always has time to listen to their most trivial news or to offer advice. Laura has learned that if Mom doesn't know, Grammy likely will. I want to be like that when I grow up.

Happy birthday, Mother! We love and appreciate you!

Purple Pretties

"I gotta run some errands, Mom," she said as she tried to hurry out the door yesterday afternoon.

It's not like her to not say where she's going. "You just ran some errands this morning. What errands do you have to run now?"

"Oh... just errands," she said vaguely.

 I was beginning to get alarmed. "Dad knows," she reassured me. "I just can't tell you."

A-ha! Mother's Day is coming up. I had forgotten. And so, off she went on her "secret" errand.

***

We'll be gone this weekend, so yesterday evening my family presented me with a gorgeous hanging basket full of petunias and other complementary flowers I don't know the names of. I was told it would

love the sun, but needs plenty of water. I have a perfect place to hang it, just outside the kitchen door on the back deck.

Such a thoughtful family I have! I will enjoy my Mother's Day flowers all summer.

***

I stepped outside the front door this morning to take a picture of my miniature azalea bush which is flourishing nicely. It was a house-warming gift from my friend, Kay, when we moved into our home 5 years ago.

I'm glad it has thrived. It reminds me of sweet Kay in heaven every time I notice it. The Precious Moments statuette is in memory of our previous dog, Murphy. So this is my little "memorial garden."

***

My lilacs are coming on, too. I expect they'll be in full bloom when we get back from our trip week-after-next.

I do love spring!

The Antique Buggy

Imagine, if you will, a young mommy in the late 1960s out for a walk with her baby. In your mind, what does that baby stroller look like? Maybe bright and plasticky, with shiny chrome metal bars and such? Yeah, me, too. (Go ahead. Google "baby stroller 1960s" and you'll see what I mean.)

Whatever you had pictured, it was probably not this, huh?

 Believe it or not, that picture was taken in 1966... and the dimpled little charmer? Yep, that's me!

You see, by nature and of necessity, my mother has always been quite frugal. When she needed a stroller for her firstborn baby, she and Dad went to the auction house to look for a bargain.

Alas, there were no strollers to be found. The only thing available was an antique wicker baby buggy circa 1925. Since it was forty years old and so shabby, they were able to get it for $10. Mother declared she liked it better than a stroller anyway, so they brought it home... and plopped me in it for many a happy walk.

I think I remember Mother telling how she used it to cart her wash from their apartment to the laundry room on the premises. She would set me in the back, and put the basket of clothes in the front.

 It was a very generous buggy. Plenty of room for two happy tots. In the picture above, aunt Rachel and I are considering how I should scoot over and make room for her.

See there? This arrangement works out nicely!

 Here I'm sharing with my twin cousins. The girl twin gets to ride in the buggy with me, while the boy twin demonstrates his strong muscles by "pushing" us. I wonder how far he managed to get us on the grassy surface. Looks like some wise adult had probably lifted the buggy over off the sidewalk to slow his progress. Runaway babies would not be good.

 And then, a year or so later, we had twins of our own! Girl twins. So Mommy pushed the baby sisters in the buggy while I pulled a wagon for the puppy to ride in. I wonder how far we got with that set-up? Looks to me like that puppy required a good deal of cuddling and not so much riding in the wagon.

 Not quite two years after that we got a baby brother, and he had his turn in the buggy. Some teens from our church came by to help with the little ones, and took us all for a walk. I remember we girls had strict instructions to hold on to the buggy and not let go.

Regrettably, I couldn't find a picture of my youngest brother in the buggy... because yes, the following year, there was still another baby. Probably we didn't have a camera, or maybe couldn't afford film for the camera, during his buggy-riding days.

After that, the buggy went into storage for many years.

And then, in the 1990s, my mother got it out again. By then it was too wobbly and delicate to be used in any practical way, but it made a perfect photo prop for those grandbabies!

My firstborn baby...

...and then my second one...

...followed by nine cousins over the next few years.

Mother finally relinquished the buggy to my care not too long ago. I am very happy to have it in my living room. We've had a "family" of porcelain dolls cuddled together in it for awhile. I think I'd like to put something different in it now. I'm not sure what, but I'll think of something.

So, for this week's Vintage Thingy Thursday, that's the story of the second half of the life of my antique wicker baby buggy. I'd be very curious to know the stories it could tell of the first half of its life, wouldn't you?

Priceless Heirlooms

This past week I've been updating a genealogy book I compiled about 10 years ago, at the request of my great-aunt who wants it for a family reunion in a couple of weeks. It had been awhile since I had taken time to work on genealogy, and I always enjoy it, so that was a fun diversion from some of the other projects that have been consuming my time lately.

One thing I added was pictures of headstones for various ancestors that I found at the very fascinating www.findagrave.com site. When I came across the headstone for my great-great-great-grandmother, Lucinda Catherine Ratterree Bock, I broke out in goose pimples. In order to explain why, I want to rerun a blog post from Mother's Day 2009, then I'll show you her headstone.

*****

"100 years from now it will not matter what my bank account was,
the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove...
but the world may be a better place
because I was important in the life of a child."

Four Generations- July 1967.
The pensive tot in the center is 19-month-old Little Karla.
My mother, Pallie Sue Ezell, is behind me holding me up.
Great-grand Mother Shumaker is on the left holding Baby Sister Naomi.
Grandmother Ernesteen Easley is on the right holding Baby Sister Dorcas.

My sisters and I are mothers of growing families now. Our mother is the "grandmother"... and Grandmother and Mother Shumaker are in Heaven.

Four Generations- August 1922.
The thoughtful little tot in this picture is Grandmother Ernesteen Easley.
Behind her is her mother, great grandmother Liffa Shumaker.
Beside Mother Shumaker is her mother, Martha Maberry, my great-great grandmother.
And seated is Mama 'Berry's mother, my great-great-great grandmother, Lucinda Bock.

I suspect the world is a better place today because each of these ladies was important in the lives of her children!

Her children rise up and call her blessed...
Proverbs 31.28

*****

And here is Great-Great-Great Grandmother's headstone from 1929:

Do you see the epitaph?

"SHE PRAYED FOR HER CHILDREN"

I wonder if it ever crossed her mind that her influence would reach across so many generations?

May I follow her example.

Motherhood

On Mother's Day, for the past 17 years, I have quietly celebrated the privilege I have of being a mother. I don't need my family to honor me. They do, but it's completely unnecessary. Just getting to be a mother is enough of an honor for me!

I love this parable that one of my uncles shared at the funerals of both of my grandmothers. Grandmother Easley passed away in 1998 when my children were 2 and 5. MawMaw Ezell passed away last summer when my children were 13 and 16. Both times I so appreciated this illustration of motherhood, but from a completely different perspective each time. As my children are growing up, I'm discovering, much to my surprise, that motherhood does get better over the years. I could never have imagined that the teen years would be just as wonderful as the baby years!

A Parable of Motherhood

By Temple Bailey

The young mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is the way long?" she asked. And her guide said, "Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning." But the young mother was happy and she would not believe that anything could be better than those years. So she played with her children and gathered flowers for them along the way and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them and life was good, and the young mother cried, "Nothing will never be lovelier than this."

Then night came, and storm, and the path was dark and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle and the children said, "Oh Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come," and the mother said, "This is better than the brightness of day, for I have taught my children courage."

And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary, but at all times she said to the children, "A little patience and we are there." So the children climbed and when they reached the top, they said, "We could not have done it without you, Mother." And the mother, when she lay down that night, looked up at the stars and said, "This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage, today I have given then strength."

And with the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil--and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said, "Look up. Lift your eyes to the light." And the children looked and saw above the clouds an Everlasting Glory, and it guided them and brought them beyond the darkness. And that night the mother said, "This is the best day of all for I have shown my children God."

And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old, and she was little and bent. And her children were tall and strong and walked with courage. And when the way was rough they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond the hill they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And the mother said, "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know that the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone and their children after them." And the children said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates."

And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said, "We cannot see her, but she is with us still. A mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a Living Presence."

Gifts from my children...

Don't you just love the sweet gifts that the children come up with on their own?

My daughters made this beautiful cake for me for Mother's Day... all by themselves. I didn't see it till they presented it to me completely finished! I was impressed!
Later in the week a knock came on my office door. I called out for whoever it was to "Come in!" but no one did. So I opened the door to find this cheery nosegay hanging on the doorknob!
Attached was this "mysterious" note...
I wasn't sure if they meant they were late for Mother's Day or May Day, but anyway, I appreciated the thoughtfulness behind the gift.

I really do like dandelions. I just wished the blossoms lasted longer and that they didn't have such "weedy" tendencies of growing in inappropriate places, and insisting on being taller than the grass!

The children were tickled to find out that their bouquet was called a nosegay! They thought that was a hilarious name for it.

Mother's Day Camp-out

Our first "real" camping trip of the season was for Mother's Day weekend. My younger daughter asked me if that was my Mother's Day present. I said, "Well, I guess so!" I hadn't really thought about it... but it was interesting: later in the weekend I was reading about "love languages" and realized that my love language is "quality time." So, yes... this definitely fit the bill! Spending quality time with my family was a perfect Mother's Day gift!

It was partly cloudy and cool when we left Friday evening...
We set up camp and built a fire to cook hot dogs on for supper...After supper it started raining. Some of "us" bravely enjoyed the campfire anyway...
...others of "us" (waving my hand!) enjoyed the view out the window with a good book, inside the warmth of the cozy trailer!
Saturday was sunny with just a few puffy clouds...
It was a great day for bike riding... in the campground...
...and on forest roads...
I always look forward to beating Lyle at a game of Scrabble after dark when we're camping...
...only this time he beat me! Hmph!

He said he felt real bad about it.

But I didn't believe him.

Six Generations of Motherhood

"100 years from now it will not matter what my bank account was,
the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove...
but the world may be a better place
because I was important in the life of a child."

Four Generations- July 1967.
The pensive tot in the center is 19-month-old Little Karla.
My mother, Pallie Sue Ezell, is behind me holding me up.
Great-grand Mother Shumaker is on the left holding Baby Sister Naomi.
Grandmother Ernesteen Easley is on the right holding Baby Sister Dorcas.

My sisters and I are mothers of growing families now. Our mother is the "grandmother"... and Grandmother and Mother Shumaker are in Heaven.

Four Generations- August 1922.
The thoughtful little tot in this picture is Grandmother Ernesteen Easley.
Behind her is her mother, great grandmother Liffa Shumaker.
Beside Mother Shumaker is her mother, Martha Maberry, my great-great grandmother.
And seated is Mama 'Berry's mother, my great-great-great grandmother, Lucinda Bock.

I suspect the world is a better place today because each of these ladies was important in the lives of her children!

Her children rise up and call her blessed...
Proverbs 31.28