Thinking about Mom today

Your tiny hand in mine as you're sleeping on my chest
Laying here so still giving Mom a chance to rest
And I'm watching my world rise and fall with every single breath

Looking down at you and how you look so much like me
And all I want to do is give you everything you need
Son, I know I'm gonna make mistakes
But my love for you will never ever change

I don't ever wanna let you go
But I can't wait to get to watch you grow
And no matter what this life might bring
I want you to know that you will always be
You will always be my son

I'm picturing your life, how the years will all play out
And whatever you do, just know that I'm already proud
Son, I know you're gonna make mistakes
But my love for you will never ever change

I don't ever wanna let you go
But I can't wait to get to watch you grow
And no matter what this life might bring
I want you to know that you will always be
You will always be my son

Anthem Lights

Today is "Mothers" day so naturally my thoughts turn to "Grace" and my own relationship with my "mom".

In several of my previous blog posts I have written about Father's and their importance to society, but very few comments about "moms".  Perhaps because so many of my own "fond" memories of childhood revolve around times with dad.  Funny because as I remember,  my Dad worked long hours, working two jobs (as a beat cop and a painter on the side in my younger years) and so most of my formative early childhood hours had to be spent, like most kids with "Mom".  Yet I do not recall of any particular warm and fuzzy stories that I can relate to her.

Now don't get me wrong, my mom was obviously instrumental in who I am and indeed as I believe I once posted it was my mom who instilled in me a "need" to strive to be "successful" scholastically,   professionally and even, athletically.  My father on the other hand was all about looking at life as defined by who you are within a family, a community,and your "ethics.".  Now perhaps I overstate these influences, but I cannot help but believe that as a person I am a product of these two rather diverse world views.

Now, as I look back on my final years with mom, much of this became very clear to me.  

I would not change a thing about spending time with Mom during her final years in Salt Lake and Colorado.  But life with her those final years was sometimes an eye opener to say the least.  It has put some real perspective on her complex relationship with my dad.  His favorite line when she pushed him (more like nagged him) was "Grace your breaking my agates" still lingers in my memory.  I found at times   she could certainly break mine during chats with with her on her balcony in Salt Lake.  She could even break my "Faithful and Obedient's" at times as well!   While I am sure her health and sense of isolation there were big contributors to her moods at the time it was still difficult to listen to some of  her "feelings".   I enjoyed many hours chatting with her but on several occasions those conversations  turned to telling me how my Dad never pushed him self enough to be "better", i.e to improve his station in life.  Sometimes I sensed a bitterness that was frankly  both surprising and even disheartening  to hear.  on a few occasions even my Faithful and Obedient's got her back up even more than mine! (I sould note that my Dad was often my Faithful and Obedient's best buddy when I worked long hours at AIG, often visiting her to "get away" for a few hours from having his agates broken in his retirement!)

Yet during all this I felt she indeed loved my dad deeply and missed him, as she often "talked to him" in her room.  

Funny but in that short time in Utah I came to understand my mom much better than I ever had and not necessarily in a "bad" way.   I hope my opening paragraph's did not give you a sense that she anything but genuinely human as we all are when we look back on life in the twilight of our existence.

As I write this today, as I think back  Grace's childhood in which she had a very interesting father.  Her mother, Freda married a man who was not a great role model as a father, husband or provider.  He never held a steady job  and Freda had to often jump the electric meter to make ends meet.  They got evicted many times and were also a almost always one step behind on the rent.  Those scars I think ran deep and I think those memories "stuck" with her till the end.  She always felt she deserved better in life and she felt a need to push those values on my dad in that way, to be something "better" during all their years together.  Of course likewise, it were those values she pushed on me.

These were some of the things l came understand much better during her final years.  Through these conversations  I was able to better understand my own personality and how it has been shaped and molded by both my parents.

So now my final "Observation"  while some of her revelations were surprising to me, I now  realize how lucky I was to have two parents who despite different worldviews and the attendant difficult relations (as all married couple experience) they found a way to remain faithful to their vows,  those we  recite when we say "for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part".  A concept often forgotten in today's perceptions of marriage.  It is that ideal that helps build a "successful" marriage  and for me genuine "happy" childhood memories.

 For indeed I feel that I had an extraordinarily "happy childhood" nurtured by two very good parents who loved their kids dearly.

For your part in that  endurance, nurturing and love , Mom today I say "Thanks".