Can it be that I am actually experiencing my 44th year as a mother? I vividly recall a very painful time period in my life when I thought I would never be one. I wanted a baby more than anything else in the world. I had been married for 4 years, and as my friends were basking in the throes and joys of parenthood, I remained childless with nothing to say in baby discussions. I had played with dolls from as far back as I could remember up until I reached 7th grade while always fantasizing about my future as a mom. There never was an alternative plan for me.
When he saw my emotional pain, my father said, "Joyce, when God is ready for you to be a mother, that is when you will become one. There is an unknown reason why you are not having one now." Three and a half years later following a divorce and another marriage, I was holding my first born in my arms marveling at the miracle of childbirth and a bit at Dad's wisdom. I got to experience that incomparable joy twice again when my daughters arrived two and twelve years later. This means on this mother's day I am the grandmother of two granddaughters, Leanne and Carson, 17 years and 20 months old, respectively and the mother of a son and two daughters. I see all of my kids and grandkids on a regular basis and sometimes phone calls several times each day.
Today the flowers and cards have started to arrive. Although it is a day used by kids everywhere to honor their mothers, I feel like it is a time for me to be reminded of God's greatest gifts and honor Him for answering my prayers. I simply appreciate and love my kids.
When Leanne gave me a card this morning with a hand written note "You will always be my favorite grandmother," I felt smug and happy. Hey, this girl has three other grandmothers, and it has taken 17 years to hear I am her favorite. I used to try and fool her into saying it when she was a tot, but she would laugh and say "Grandma Shirley says that too, Gold Grandma."
Leanne has so many grandmothers that she established a simple way of tagging a unique name on all five of us when she was 3 years old. Her grandmother Shirley had dark hair, so she called her Black Grandma. Her two step grandmas were labeled Grandma Kathy and Grandma Carole. She decided I had gold hair, so I became Gold Grandma. Her grandmother Meserole had white hair, so she ended up being White Grandma. Later White Grandma would become Little Grandma as Mother kept getting smaller each year. At any given time in my life, I might have been Red Grandma or perhaps even Multi-colored Grandma, especially on those bad hair dye days. I was grateful to end up being Gold Grandma when I think of all the possible names she could have given me. She did raise a few eyebrows in the small town of Red River, New Mexico with her name choices. She was having dinner out with her daddy, when he asked her if she was ready to go home and see her mommy. She said, "Yeah, I want to see Black Grandma too." They were on a father daughter ski trip when the little mountain city is always filled with Texans. No doubt the people sitting around them had to wonder how the pale faced little girl could possibly have a black grandma.
I wanted to make sure Baby Carson doesn't use Leanne's system today, since I am sure I would be Wrinkled Grandma. I have diligently prodded her into calling me Nanna.
Marty, my son, is the CFO of our company. He calls me Joyce or Dr. Swineheart most of the time in order to avoid the use of "Mom" in business meetings and/or when talking to employees. You know a response to a business associate of "I'll discuss it with Mom," or "You need to talk to my Mom about that," might sound a little strange for a 44 year old business executive. It would especially be shocking for those who might not realize that I am his mother. "Hey, I'm new here. Is the CFO whacked or something...telling me to have his mom handle this matter?" This same guy has given me beautiful rings and a diamond necklace for Christmas a couple of years ago that caused me to gasp, so I am not insecure about being called Joyce.
I get Mom cards from Marty for special occasions and sometimes he will say "Is my Mom there?" when calling unless he is in the work mode. Then he may ask Jerry if Joyce is home. My girls call me Mom and occasionally Mommy. If they are unhappy with something I have said, they call me Mother with an emphasis on the first syllable.
As I sit here enjoying this year's peaceful Mother's Day, I am just so happy that I am a mother. I don't care what they call me. It only matters that they exist. I cannot imagine life without even one of the people who have made such a significant contribution to my feeling whole and complete.
Many times, I heard my mother say she did not want to live one day longer than any of her children. I now understand what you meant, Mother. I am sure you are up there somewhere hearing my message while nurturing the babies in heaven. Happy Mother's Day 2009. You are the woman who taught me how to be a mother in a most loving wonderful way.
2 comments:
But if Marty would called you mother at the office, then a few others could refer to the "Mother who runs this company" (giggle)
when i found out i was prego i was in ireland with my mother (i was supposed to start school at trinity college dublin as an exchange student. but i arrived in ireland may 14 and may 26 found out i was pregnant). when i told my mom, she said "i am too young to be a grandmother and i am not raising another child". i loved your discussion of how leanne named her grandmas because my mom was adamant at being "nana jen" NOT grandma. BTW she melted at my first ultrasound and repented her "i'm not old enough to be a grandma" ways and now loves it.
thanks for sharing.
i love being able to relate to you as an adult (though as you pointed out i still retain a fair bit of the child spirit :)
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