My relationship with my mom has been off and on for years. Cutting apron strings was harder for her than me. As the mother of four children and the wife of a military man, she spent a lot of her time being both mother and father to us.
As a little girl growing up and one of three sisters, my mom spent much of her time making clothes for all of us. She was an incredible seamstress. I don't remember ever having a store bought dress or even knowing how to buy one even after I left home. I remember trying to buy clothes while in college and I didn't even know what size I wore.
She spent many hours either laboring over our clothes or the canning she did every summer. We'd spend hours under the old tree in the back yard with an enamel pan in our laps shelling peas. My fingers stayed purple all summer long.
She would can up more vegetables than we could possibly eat. Her green beans and potatoes were probably my favorite. Even today, I cherish a jar of her stewed tomatoes. And Ben would make himself sick on her canned applesauce.
As I got older and she got more demanding, I found myself pulling away. Her inability to cut the strings and let me live my life was rather difficult for her. Her constant calls and inquiry into my personal affairs led me to slowly and cautiously cut her off.
Now she's 80 and has been diagnosed with Alzheimer. What came with that disease was actually a blessing in disguise. My mother had never really discussed her upbringing. We knew that she had been raised by her Aunt and Uncle. And we knew that her mother had been head injured and placed in a special home. That's pretty much all we knew. But evidently life had to have been difficult for her. She learned from her last remaining brother now living in Kentucky that she had been handed over to relatives along with her other nine siblings by her father. And as the youngest of the 10 children, she was the one that no one wanted, so she learned.
Over the years, with the divorce from my father and a second failed marriage,my mother's interest in her children's lives grew along with her discontent. Her obvious anger and disappointment spilled over into our lives. She became very controlling and very demanding. And with every demand, I withdrew even more.
Following a mini stroke last summer, she began to lose her memory. While that would concern most, it turned out to be a blessing for her. She has forgotten a lot of the disappointments in her life ...and ours. And she seems happier now than I've ever seen her. She's less interested in controlling our lives now and more interested in just sharing time and making new memories.
I started spending Monday mornings with my mother. Starting with her favorite meal of Kentucky Fried Chicken, I realized how important it was for me to spend this time with her. On my second visit, she taught me how to make her fried chicken. We've spent the day talking about the good times. I see her face changing. I see the softness come back in her face and I see how vulnerable she is right now. Her sweet loving nature is coming back as her memory fades.
I am renewing my relationship with my mother. My love for her has been redefined. We're making new connections, new memories and I'm learning how to make fried chicken and homemade biscuits.
Mondays with Mom is just what the doctor ordered...for both of us!
As a little girl growing up and one of three sisters, my mom spent much of her time making clothes for all of us. She was an incredible seamstress. I don't remember ever having a store bought dress or even knowing how to buy one even after I left home. I remember trying to buy clothes while in college and I didn't even know what size I wore.
She spent many hours either laboring over our clothes or the canning she did every summer. We'd spend hours under the old tree in the back yard with an enamel pan in our laps shelling peas. My fingers stayed purple all summer long.
She would can up more vegetables than we could possibly eat. Her green beans and potatoes were probably my favorite. Even today, I cherish a jar of her stewed tomatoes. And Ben would make himself sick on her canned applesauce.
As I got older and she got more demanding, I found myself pulling away. Her inability to cut the strings and let me live my life was rather difficult for her. Her constant calls and inquiry into my personal affairs led me to slowly and cautiously cut her off.
Now she's 80 and has been diagnosed with Alzheimer. What came with that disease was actually a blessing in disguise. My mother had never really discussed her upbringing. We knew that she had been raised by her Aunt and Uncle. And we knew that her mother had been head injured and placed in a special home. That's pretty much all we knew. But evidently life had to have been difficult for her. She learned from her last remaining brother now living in Kentucky that she had been handed over to relatives along with her other nine siblings by her father. And as the youngest of the 10 children, she was the one that no one wanted, so she learned.
Over the years, with the divorce from my father and a second failed marriage,my mother's interest in her children's lives grew along with her discontent. Her obvious anger and disappointment spilled over into our lives. She became very controlling and very demanding. And with every demand, I withdrew even more.
Following a mini stroke last summer, she began to lose her memory. While that would concern most, it turned out to be a blessing for her. She has forgotten a lot of the disappointments in her life ...and ours. And she seems happier now than I've ever seen her. She's less interested in controlling our lives now and more interested in just sharing time and making new memories.
I started spending Monday mornings with my mother. Starting with her favorite meal of Kentucky Fried Chicken, I realized how important it was for me to spend this time with her. On my second visit, she taught me how to make her fried chicken. We've spent the day talking about the good times. I see her face changing. I see the softness come back in her face and I see how vulnerable she is right now. Her sweet loving nature is coming back as her memory fades.
I am renewing my relationship with my mother. My love for her has been redefined. We're making new connections, new memories and I'm learning how to make fried chicken and homemade biscuits.
Mondays with Mom is just what the doctor ordered...for both of us!
Chris, Thank you for a heart warming piece that reveals there can be unexpected joy in what often times is considered a dark hour. You had the courage and wisdom to find that joy. Might we all have the courage to do the same. -- Keith
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