Sunday, May 10, 2015

Things My Mother Taught Me

There's a quote I've seen circulating on Facebook for a while that says something like, "The voice you use to talk to your children will be the voice they use to talk to themselves."  As a parent, that thought is both inspiring and terrifying, with enough emphasis on the terrifying that sometimes we might hope it isn't true.  But as someone's child, all of us know that the truth in it is enough--we all recognize that voice inside our head.

For some of us, that parental voice is loud and overpowering; for some, it is quiet, hidden, and we must strain to hear.  Every parent, bound by imperfection as are all of us, speaks a mix of truth and falsehood in our memories, and the messages are altered also by the way we remember them, interpret them, understand them.  Most of us, however, are fortunate enough to have parental voices that speak more good than bad--that encourage us, instruct us, remind us, and empower us--and I am one of those.

I believe the first time I realized just how often I thought of or spoke aloud some advice, saying, or thought of my mother's, I was already a young adult and college student living away from home.  In a group of friends, I had made some reference to a saying of hers--which one exactly is now long forgotten--and someone replied with joking exasperation, "Can't that woman ever leave us alone?!?"  That was the beginning of my coming to understand the way that, even as adults, whether they are physically present or not, our mothers come with us wherever we go; and that this seems true for my mother, in particular.

I have long been in the habit, when I receive any particularly profound compliment, of deferring any credit to my parents.  There is so much truth in this that it would be impossible to give anything like a comprehensive account of what my mother taught me, or how she shaped me, or influenced me, since the implications of the person I became, simply by being born into my family, are so far-reaching they cannot be articulated.  However, on Mother's Day, here are just a handful of Mom-isms that have served me well, and that I hope I've managed to pass on to my own boys also.

1.  "Don't act lousy, and don't throw your trash around."  Actually, the credit for the wording on this one goes to my brother, who, on a long car trip, was anxious to get out at the rest stop, and didn't feel like waiting on Mom's version of the speech to be delivered before we were allowed to exit the vehicle.  So he pre-empted it with this shorter version, his best summary of all Mom's many admonishments about decent public behavior.  If I had to give a one-sentence version that actually came from Mom, I guess it would be, "Try to act like you've been out in public before."  But the sentiment is the same, and it is this.  Your behavior matters.  Everyone else might throw their wrappers on the ground, but you don't have to.  Everyone else might be an inconsiderate jerk, but you don't have to.  You can make a difference.  You can set the example.  People are watching you, and it will make more impact than you think.  One person doing right, behaving appropriately, acting with grace, is valuable and important, even if you are the only one. Especially if you are the only one.  Be that one person.

2.  "There won't always be someone around to help you fold a sheet."  This means you might as well learn how to do it yourself.  You can be just as strong, capable, and independent as you set your mind to be.  If there's someone there to help you, great.  Teamwork is awesome.  It can be easier and more fun when you can share every task with a partner.  But life isn't always like that.  Many everyday things, and yes, even many hard things, you will have to do alone.  You can do it.  Figure out how.

3.  "Never just wait."  Don't get me wrong.  There are times in life when waiting is appropriate.  Sometimes you just don't know what to do, and waiting is the only thing.  Sometimes it just isn't time yet.  Waiting with patience was something taught, practiced, and prized in my household.  But this advice was given in the kitchen, with cookies in the oven.  When something's in the oven, you don't just stand and wait for it to come out.  There are dirty dishes everywhere, baking supplies that need to be put away, and probably laundry lurking somewhere that needs attention.  Look around, see what needs to be done, and do it.  Take the initiative.  Be a contributing member of the team.  Don't wait around for someone else to have to tell you what to do.  When you know the task, when you have the time, don't waste it.

4.  "You shouldn't just be ignorant."  I've written about this one before, in a previous post that described my parents' attitude to learning.  This statement is the perfectly logical reason my mom gave me for her need to learn something "about Normandy".  As I said in that earlier post, I learned from my earliest days that learning itself is fun, exciting, and important, that ideas and information of all kinds are valuable and relevant, and that this continues in all areas of life, indefinitely.

5.  "You meet the need of the moment."  In relationships, there is no keeping score.  Marriage, or any other relationship, contrary to popular belief, is not a 50-50 deal.  No two people can ever move forward together successfully in life, bound by the idea that you meet the other person's needs as they meet yours.  Life is hard.  Things change fast.  Bad stuff happens.  We are in it together.  We don't earn our place, not in marriage, not in friendship, not in family.  We don't merit love by doing.  We don't say to each other, "Well, I feel so bad about everything you've done for me when I've done nothing for you."  (Or even the other way around--"Here's a list of everything I've done for you, but what have you done for me lately?")  That isn't how it works.  Love, by its existence, out of its abundance, meets the need that is now.

6.  "When you love someone, that doesn't mean you think they're perfect; it means you see their faults and flaws, and you love them anyway."  First hearing this statement, riding somewhere that I don't remember with Mom in the car, the initial shock was finding out that she did not think my dad was perfect.  Here's why that is significant--it means that even though she didn't think him perfect, as far as anyone could see, she loved as though he was.  Now, as an adult, I've come to understand this as the bedrock of every successful relationship, whether parent and child, husband and wife, or loving friend.  I've written often about being the Beloved, and how that is, according to Henri Nouwen, "the core truth of our existence"; it's a difficult truth for many people to grasp, and I've often been asked why it seems to come so easily to me.  This is why.  From the first moment of my existence, this is the way love was understood, practiced, and taught for me.  My worth and value as a person, my worthiness of being loved, was not based on my performance, or on my perfection.  Love was given by grace; I, by existing, was enough.

The older I get, the more I see what it looks like to try to go through life without this last understanding, the more I realize how everything, everything, depends on it.  All the previous items on this list can only be accomplished with this belief underlying them all.  Knowing this, constantly, unshakably, every day, is a gift I was given that I have continually grown to appreciate and that will never leave me.  I hope it's a gift I manage to give my children in the same way it was given to me, and that someday, someone somewhere has to ask them if I will ever leave them alone; and I hope that the answer for them is the same as it was for me--nope.  Not ever.  Thanks, Mom.

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