Mom Traits: TRANSPARENCY

This is the final post out of five that I've done leading up to Mother's Day.  Of course, my mom has more than five notable traits that make her who she is, but I've enjoyed highlighting these ones.

 

My mom with her first grand baby, Luke

 

This mom trait has two sides.  My mom lives her life as if to say, #1:  you are welcome to know all of me  and #2:  I’d love to know all of you.

 

There is no façade.  My mom doesn’t try to hide her failings or exaggerate her successes.  She just is.  When I was a teenager, I said something to my dad and my mom pulled me aside soon after.  She said something to the effect of, “What you just said bothered me because it sounds like the way I talk to your dad.  That is really disrespectful and I’m sorry I modeled that to you.  Let’s do better.”  She could have just told me to stop being rude, but she took the extra step to be transparent.  It made an impact on me.

 

As I grew up, I always knew that my mom would tell me the real answer to whatever question I had.  She was good at making her answers age appropriate, but she didn’t hold back beyond that.  Two of these instances stick out to me.  In a grocery store checkout line, I asked her what rape was.  She said, “That’s a sad one.  Let’s talk about it in the car.”  I quickly decided I didn’t want to know if she had to tell me in private.  Another time, she had rented the movie Schindler’s List.  I was probably 14 or 15.  I asked if I could watch the movie with her.  My mom said, “Yes, you can.  But you need to know that this will make you cry.  It’s okay to cry because this really happened and it was absolutely terrible.”  I sat next to her, watched, and as predicted – I cried.

 

A funny example of my mom’s comfort with sharing happened at a Kohl’s when I was pregnant with my first son.  It was my mom’s first grandchild and she went with me to pick out some cute outfits.  As our cashier rang everything up, my mom gushed her excitement over her grandbaby.  “I’ve waited so long to be a grandma.  I thought it was never going to happen!  Now, my daughter’s having a baby and my son isn’t using a goalie, if you know what I mean.  So, another one could come soon!”  I gave her a little smack.  “Mom!  Don’t talk about birth control with someone you don’t even know!”  My mom rolled her eyes, then reached over the counter and brushed the cashier’s long hair aside to see her nametag.  “There.  Her name is Kaylee.  Hi Kaylee.  Do you have any kids?”  Kaylee had an awkward smile pasted across her face.  “Um, I’m nineteen,” she said.  “Oh,” my mom replied, “Well, you’ve got plenty of time for babies later then.”

 

My mom lets other people be themselves too.  She welcomes the whole package.  We often laugh because it does seem like quirky people are attracted to her.  Even strangers on the street open up and share all sorts of things with her.  It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known my mom, she’s up for a deep discussion and is not afraid of any topic.  This is a wonderful quality.

 

I love you, Mom.  I hope you feel honored and know that your life is full of value and purpose - in the past and every day in the present.  Happy Mother’s Day!

Mom Traits: HUMOR

I was going to call this trait "Weirdness", but I thought "Humor" was a nicer title.  The big idea is, my mom is funny, wacky, goofy, witty, weird - - all of the above.  It's a great trait and I'm happy to write about it today.  This is number four out of five posts to honor things I love about my mom.

 

 

My mom has a wacky side.  She loves to laugh and find the humor in life.  Exhibit A is the photo I chose for this post.  Years ago, my mom had carpal tunnel surgery and this is how the post-surgery bandaging ended up.  My mom got such a kick out of it.  Everywhere she went, there was a new opportunity to share a laugh with someone over her forced flip off.

 

Another time, my mom and I went shoe shopping.  We were trying on sandals and taking up most of the aisle with our discarded options.  Another shopper stepped over everything to get past us.  My mom, standing on one foot, trying to wriggle her other foot into a wedge sandal, apologized, “Oh, sorry!  My daughter is trying to get me into a wedgie!”  I quickly corrected her and she thought it was hilarious.  “Well, at least I stopped saying thong!”  (for flip-flops)

 

When I was little, and didn’t want to go to bed, a character named Jo Jo Boo would show up.  Jo Jo Boo looked a lot like my mom and she always wanted to go to sleep in my bed.  When Jo Jo Boo covered herself with my blankets and held my stuffed animals, I laughed and argued with her that it was really my bed.  By the end of Jo Jo’s antics, I was begging to have Jo Jo get out of my bed so I could get in.

 

I’m having trouble capturing my mom’s sense of humor into stories.  So much of it happens as a quick-witted comment in the moment.  She pays attention to what’s going on around her and finds something funny in it.  Our family has gone through a lot of heavy and difficult things, but there’s always been a reprieve of laughter too.  Those who have spent time with her know what I’m talking about.  My mom’s older sister once gave gifts to the other sisters.  The youngest sister got something with the word “Joy” on it, and they teased each other that Rene was the joyful sister.  Mom, I’m here to tell you that you are very much a joy-bringer too.  Thanks for the joy you bring to others.

 

Remember the 80's?  Our family has some laughs over this photo arrangement.

 

 

 

Mom Traits: SERVICE

This is post number three out of five.  For Mother's Day, I'm sharing traits I love and respect in my mom.  See number one for more detail.

The next trait I love in my mom is one she taught me by living it out in front of me.  As a teenager, we’d go to the nursing home to visit my grandma.  I remember it being a little too warm in there, and the stuffy air smelling a bit like urine and cleaning products.  I wanted to see my grandma, but I was resistant to everything else.  The hallway was usually an obstacle course of residents parked or traveling in their wheelchairs.  We didn’t know them, but my mom told me to touch each one’s hand or shoulder, look them in the eyes, and say hello.  “People need to be touched at least twelve times a day,” she told me, “Who is giving these people their touch quota?  We have to help.”  So, I reluctantly followed behind her, squeezing hands, saying hello, and sometimes being pulled into a bent over hug.

 

The best example of my mom’s heart for service happened with my grandpa; her father-in-law.  You need to know that my mom hates feet.  A lot of moms kiss their kids’ feet or will rub their husband’s feet.  Not my mom.  Feet gross her out and she does not want you putting your feet in her space.  So, it really stuck out to me the day she decided to trim my grandpa’s toenails.  It was hard for him to bend and get his nails himself, so they had gotten bad.  Recalling this story simultaneously makes me cringe, remembering his gnarly, calloused feet, and be amazed, remembering my mom’s happy attitude.  She worked away, trimming the nails and rubbing lotion into the skin, just chatting pleasantly, as if it was no big deal.  There’s more.  Afterwards, when we got in the car to go home, I expected her have a major gross out rant to express what she surely held in earlier.  Nope!  I don’t even remember her mentioning it.  That brand of service is beautiful to me.

 

My last service story with my mama is how she would help me in my classroom.  I was an elementary teacher for many years and when my mom stopped working her own job, she volunteered to read with my students.  During my most difficult year, I had several kids with major behavior issues.  I was exhausted and wanting to quit every day.  My mom came and pulled kids out to a hallway desk and read with them one on one.  While she tried to read with everyone, I also later found out that she had a system.  She was prayerful as she walked in and would catch my eye and see if I indicated anyone that was having a rough day.  One boy often signaled to her, wildly waving his arms and mouthing, “Me!  Me!  Me!”  My mom took my toughest ones and somehow brought them back calmer and happier.  She told me they’d read, but also talk about life.  She pretty much had mini counseling sessions with them, inviting them to work out whatever was bothering them that day.  Her service was a gift, and also just the support of knowing she was joining me in my tough season.

 

There are so many other ways my mom reflects God’s heart through serving others.  I hope these stories have given a good glimpse, and also encouraged you in your places of service.  All these little acts of care – seen and unseen – matter so much.