Today, I made an interesting discovery: my mom totally owes me. Earth shattering, right? I read through one of my old journals and was quite enlightened by my youthful observations. Now, I know my timing may seem a bit tacky with Mother’s Day coming up but bear with me. I think you’ll understand where I’m coming from.
My mother used to force me to eat HORRENDOUS THINGS. Horrendous food numero uno? Ham. (Say “ham” and add a gagging action to understand how I feel.) She made me try it baked, glazed, sliced, cold, hot, shredded, and even in some weird pickle-mixed sandwich spread. I. Gagged. Every. Time. I began to refuse to eat it. Unfortunately for me, the rule was you didn’t leave the table until you finished your food. I spent MANY long nights at that dinner table. (…and many long nights in the bathroom yacking up said ham concoctions…) My lone savior was the the potted plant/tree/thingy next to the dining room table. I quickly learned I could hide a bit of my food in it at a time until my plate was cleared. I would then try to sneak back, gather the food, and throw it away. There were times when I didn’t make it back to clean up the evidence. My mom never said anything but after a short time, the plant/tree/thingy disappeared.
Mom (and ham) = 1
Me = 0
Plant/tree/thingy = Rest in peace
At times, my mom was down right mean. There was this one time I wanted to go to the movies with my cousin but didn’t want to bring my pesky little sister along (sorry Nat…[bats eyelashes] I love you…). My mom told me if I went then I had to take Natalie. I may have told Nat that there wasn’t enough money for both of us, got in the car, picked up my cousin, and then went to the movies with the intention of getting back BEFORE my mom got home to figure it out. Want to know what my mom had the nerve to do?! When the movie got out, I got to the car, went to open the door and had the fright of my life! My mom was sitting in the driver’s seat not looking all that thrilled to be there. I guess when she said I had to take my sister, she actually meant it. I may or may not have been grounded for a span of time after. A bonus lesson was learned; I now NEVER get in my car without making sure there isn’t someone inside. (I swear the woman took 10 years off my life!!!)
Mom = 1
Me = 0
Natalie = right to go to any movie she wanted to from there on out [I’m sticking my tongue out at you right now.]
Beyond that, my mom ALWAYS thought she knew what was best for me but she was way off base. I remember when I told her about a boy who I knew was the one for me. (I was only 16, but seriously, I had it all figured out.)
She was all “You’re too young”, “You need to try all the flavors before you decide on your favorite” (I swear to you, she actually said that…scout’s honor…never mind that I’m not a scout.), and “This isn’t real love. Just a crush.” I mean, really, what did she know, right? I knew when we would get married, how many kids we’d have, what they’d be named, how rich we’d be, and that we’d live happily every after. Just because he started dating someone else a month after she told me all that does not mean she had it figured out. I totally decided I didn’t want him anymore before he decided he to go out with someone else. She just *sniff* didn’t get it, *sniff* you know?
Mom = 1
Becky = 0
My first crush = totally potbellied and balding…not really but it would make a better story.
Believe me. There are soooooooo many more instances like this. So I realized my mom totally owes me.
She OWES ME the opportunity to say “thank you”. Like the time when I was little, fell down, and scrubbed up my hands. Never mind the fact that I was running around even after I had been told to stop and then tripped and fell like she said I would and then slid on the cement carport like a MLB player trying to get safely home. I never had to call her name. One second, I was eating sand and in the next she was there with a washcloth and band aid at the ready. Those soothing words and soft touches have never left me and I realized that amid my cries I never uttered a “thank you”.
She OWES ME the opportunity to say “I need you”. It seems like I spent most of my younger years pushing her away – always assuming I knew what was best. I would roll my eyes at her trying to take care of me. I was independent and strong. As no stranger to pain and heartbreak, I knew where my two feet were. I knew how to stand. I knew how to do it alone. Yet in those dark moments when the pain was too great, when I was utterly lost, or didn’t know who I could talk to, she was there. No sound needed to be uttered on my part, she just…knew. Many times words weren’t needed. A mother’s embrace is the universal balm to any child’s soul – no matter how old. I may be 40, but Mom, I need you…so much.
She OWES ME the opportunity to say “I love you”. So many times when we argued or when I accused her of being wrong she never left me with out telling me she loved me. How dare she! What a way to suck the mad out of someone. She made sure there was NEVER any doubt where my place was – in her heart. Those hugs and the power behind her sentiments have brought me back to the surface more times than I can count. I realized that between my temper and pride there were times I didn’t say “I love you” back. I guess, I’m trying to say I love you more than I can say…does that make sense?
If I took an actual tally, there is no way I would be able to get an accurate count of how many things my mother has given me. I’ll admit it; I’m a very selfish, self-centered individual. Sadly, it has taken me this many years and having four of my own kids to truly realize the sacrifices my mother made (and still makes) for me. It has taken me living across the country for 17 years to realize how much her closeness means to me. If you can, take the opportunity to see what your mom “owes” you. If your mom has passed on, I’m so very sorry. But, if it makes you feel any better, I’m positive she is on the other side listening every time you whisper how much you love and miss her. She’s there still supporting you and cheering you on.
I’m lucky. Mine is still within reach. So, if you’ll excuse me, it looks like I have a debt to collect.