On Memory

Dear One,

   Sitting down with my family for dinner the other night I was suddenly struck by a memory of an earlier family dinner from my childhood. I had asked you to get me something to drink and you looked at me, without anger but definitely level in the eyes, and told me to, "Get Up and Get it Myself." (gasp!) 
     Odd the moments that stick with us.
     This one did because I remember having a physical reaction to it. A feeling akin to the shock of a rogue, cold, ocean wave catching you completely unaware and knocking the wind out of you. In my limited child memory you'd always gotten whatever I asked for in the past. "You are my MOM for goodness sake!", my 6 or 7 year old self thought, "You are SUPPOSED to get me what I need!" I got up, sullenly I'm sure, and got myself a glass of water, brought it back to my spot on the table and, head down, tried to sneak a look up at you through my eyelashes. Far from the repentance I was hoping for, you were doing that small smile that is so uniquely yours and that as a mother myself I can now recognize as equal parts hope, exasperation, and trying to choke back a laugh. And that is where that memory ends.
Well, maybe not ENDS exactly... because I still carry it, and the lessons it contained. 


Lesson 1: You are my mother not my servant. 
Lesson 2: Do not let laziness get in the way of your own capability. 

Lesson 3: Frustration and Love can happen at the same time, but the Love is always 
              bigger. 
Lesson 4: You really do have eyes in the back of your head.
                     wait--- that's a different memory
Lesson 4:  Ignore any of these lessons and spend dinner thirsty. 


      A random memory to share and elaborate on I know, but it's such a clear example of the through-line of you being my mother that I had to let you in on what a gift it was- and all the others like it! I don't know that I'm doing this small moment justice here, it's harder to verbalize than I thought, but essentially, I am better for being told to get my own drink. My children will be too, once the initial shock passes that is. In all the little moments like this, you not only taught me to care for myself, you also taught me to respect you. Which grew into respect for myself and others we share life with. It's been a building block for a healthy and happy life.
     That old cliche about giving a man a fish or teaching him to fish is so ridiculously over-used that I won't give it more than a passing glance here. Besides, it's incomplete as you did much more than teach me to fish. You taught me to get my own glass of water. 
 And that has mattered every day since. 


Happy Mother's Day Mom.  Thank you. 


Love,
Me