My Mom

Another Mother's Day has passed...a time to reflect on the mother God has blessed me over and above with. Every year I learn more about the gift of my mother...and I shall probably never stop learning.

I guess having grown up that way, I never think much about cooking, and baking, and cleaning, and moving, and all that. I can't remember eating much out of can - chicken noodle soup or tomato if I was sick, but everything else my mom made. Store bought cookies were a treat. We cleaned house every Friday like clockwork, everyone rotating through the chores. And when we moved, we even impressed the professionals my mom had it down so well. So, now that I'm on my own, I cook, and bake, and clean, and move. (Well, the latter only once thus far on my own and I have to confess I don't clean weekly like clockwork.) But I do cook and bake, which astounds people. I'm not sure why.

And I have that to owe to my mother. For when people ask how I learned, I just shrug and say, "My mom." And it's no fault of my mother that I can't sew, or crochet, or knit. She tried to teach me - I just had no interest. But I can show off the skirts and things she sews for me with great pleasure. Apparently, I'm a successful tutor, especially at math - which is ALL my mother. And the fact that I am a successful woman (more-or-less) is a credit to my mother.

So, once again I rise up and call my mother blessed for more reasons than I can name...or probably even know.