God’s Sweet Gift of Time With My Mother
My mother recently moved in with us. Her plans are fluid and open-ended; she may stay throughout the winter, or she may return to her home in New Mexico. We are all playing it by ear.
As I was growing up, our relationship – my mother and I – was like a stormy day: sometimes there was calm, often there wasn’t. She and my father married very young and I was born just 10 months later, when they were 19. For a woman who had dreams of going to college and “making something of herself,” the timing of my birth wasn’t the best.
However, they doted on me, taking me everywhere they went. Four years later, a sister was born and four years after that, my youngest sister was born, completing our family of five. Money was tight, but we always had enough and I remember annual camping trips all throughout Colorado and weekends at Silver Dollar City. Our little family spent lots of time together growing up – silent movie nights, game nights, trips to the shooting range, hours spent outside playing and helping manage the garden/mow the lawn. All-in-all, a good life.
Through it all, my dad taught us about Jesus. He read us Bible stories – Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace comes to mind – and we faithfully attended church. I aways felt loved by both my Heavenly Father and my earthly one.
My mom, on the other hand, was a bit of a mystery. Coming from a very large family, she had heavy responsibilities with the 6 younger siblings (there were 6 older siblings as well). Education was her way out of a tumultuous relationship with her own mother. I admired much about my mother. She was highly intelligent, loved nature (she did macrame, grew gardens, created compost bins, loved being outside) and was a genius with textiles (she could sew anything, knit anything, crochet anything). She attended college when we were in school and earned her bachelor’s degree. I was so proud of her.
However, she wasn’t an emotionally available woman. Her moods could swing from attentive loving mom to “angry mom” in a heartbeat. I remember one family vacation when I was in the campground bathroom being sick. I sent my younger sister to go get my mom, and my sister returned with her reply: “You’ll be fine. Come back to the tent when you’re done.” Life with her throughout my childhood was … challenging.
Fast forward through the years and our relationship continued to be on a surface level – she didn’t share her heart, and I wasn’t willing to risk mine in her hands.
And….here we are today. She’s 79 now. She and my dad (who passed away 3 years ago) moved to New Mexico 10 years ago. My youngest sister followed them shortly after. Mom came back up to Missouri a few months ago, and last month wanted to come for a visit and stay with us. She’s never asked that before – she always stayed with a close friend. A “few days” has extended to maybe through the winter. I’m finding myself listening as she has opened up more and more about her life as a child, her parents, her early days with my dad….and her heart. She asks questions about me as well, showing an interest I haven’t seen in years.
God has given me this fantastic gift of time with my mom in a new relationship. Without His love and the many ways He has helped me grow over the past few years, I wouldn’t have been able to accept this gift. If I hadn’t left my job last year, I wouldn’t have the time. If He hadn’t helped heal my heart, I wouldn’t have the compassion to open it up to my mom.
And a final thought – what does God have as a purpose for my mom and I in this new stage of our relationship? He’s not done with her anymore than he’s done with me…or with you. As I ponder these thoughts, I’m beyond grateful that because of God, I won’t have any regrets of missed opportunities with her.
Thank you, Jesus. Amen.
Yours,
Sally