This is a letter I wrote to my daughter in 2007, when Blaine was a toddler and Logan was a baby. She never received it for I never sent it. I didn't even remember it until the hubby found it on his computer and thought it might be nice to put on this blog. The letter will speak for itself. I hope you enjoy it, too, and maybe you can relate.
The day after Mother’s Day, 2007.
Yesterday you called me to tell me that your Mother’s Day wasn’t going as you had hoped or expected. That started me thinking and remembering all of my past Mother’s Days and other holidays. They were all joyous, but they were always a busy and trying day for me. I would love to live just one of those days again with Grandma. I would do all the hard work and even more to have one last Mother’s Day with her and Grandma Tucker.
Until Grandma Tucker died we almost always went to her house on Mother's Day. We could not make both places so your dad and I compromised, Easter with the Dawkins’ and Mother’s Day with her. You kids had your cousins to hunt Easter eggs with so that seemed to be a logical way of spending the holidays. I felt it was important to be with her because we were her closest relatives and she like showing off her family. My mom had four other kids to be with her. Grandma Tucker didn’t have anybody after Shirley married Minor and moved to Texas. Grandma T. went to church every Sunday alone so having someone go with her was special to her. She loved to show you kids off to her other family, her church family.
Now I will tell you about Mother’s Day from my perspective. My Mother's Day morning at her house usually usually went something like this. “Johnny, we aren’t even up yet, and she is cooking our breakfast. Oh yum.” “Kids, get up. Grandma has breakfast ready.” Thought—I wouldn’t have to wash these dishes if we could get her to let us get McDonald’s. Oh well, I give up. “Kids, get your teeth brushed.” “Johnny, did you bring Steven’s dress shoes? I can’t find them.” “Shawna, come in the bedroom. I have to take the rollers out of your hair.” “Kids, quit fighting or I am going to put you in a corner. Right now! Johnny, where are you?!!!!!!!” “Johnny, did you bring the camera?” “Shawna, no wonder it hurts. Stand still and it won’t. I have to get the comb through it. Let’s cut your hair when we get home. No way, we aren’t going to give you a perm. I can’t get the brush through it, now!” “Steven, get your belt on.” Thought--We could get ready a lot faster if Johnny would turn that TV off. “Kids, get your Bibles.” “Shawna, are you going to take that old purse? That dusty old thing Grandma got out of her closet? That is for play. Oh, go ahead. It’s OK.” Thought—We are going to be late if we leave now and Johnny wants to picks roses for our lapels? “Hurry, get in the car. Steven, put that stick down. Scoot over so Grandma can get in.”
Thought—Whew, I didn’t think we were going to make it on time and now we are here and Sunday School hasn’t even let out. Now I can breathe. I wonder what she wants to do about lunch. Probably Wendy’s. At least we didn’t have to cook anything. We are going to have to leave as soon as we get out of church. That is going to break her heart. It would be sad for me, too, if I were in her shoes. I always hate to see her lingering on the porch waving us off. At least we have her. I can’t believe she gets around as well as she does. I hope my mom does as well when she gets to be 85. I wonder what Mom is having for lunch. Wish I could be there.
After Grandma Tucker died in 1994, we started going to Grandma Dawkins. You kids were grown by then and could get ready on your own. Even still it was a rush because you kids took longer to get ready. I still had lots of food to prepare, etc. It was still a stressful time for me. Easter’s were even more hectic than any Mother’s Day.
Easter included making sure that you didn’t get your new Easter clothes dirty which meant we didn’t put them on you until just time to go out the door. Breakfast meant a toast popped into the toaster, if that. Usually, we were in such a rush to get to church on time, it is a wonder you kids were even in the car with us.
Remember all those years I took food, especially dumplings to Grandma’s? That took days of planning. I cut in the shortening for the dumplings the day before and left them on the counter top ready for the milk, mixing, rolling, and dropping into the boiling liquid Easter morning. No small feat. I cooked what I could on Saturday and refrigerated them until ready to heat. More than once, we got up to the school and had to turn around because I forgot something. The cooking part alone, was an all morning affair—let alone trying to get two little ones ready for church and making sure they had their Easter baskets. That brings up the subject of Saturday, the day before Easter, which was as busy as Easter.
Was your dad helpful, yes, but dads do not see what needs to be done as well as moms? Moms know that little girls need their new white purse and usually know where to find it—unless that little girl has hidden it from her brother. Moms know that boys need to have their shirt tails tucked in and that they need their belts on. Moms are bad about wanting pictures, though. Dads don’t see the importance. Moms have to let dads know what needs to be done. Sometimes it takes turning off the TV. Sometimes that is all we Moms need to make us calmer. When I was very stressed, turning off the TV made the difference me being a witch and me just being a mean mom. That was meant to be funny, but I think you understand what I mean.
You probably remember those times I described above, but can you or I even imagine what Grandma went through. Imagine her getting up at 4:30 on Sunday mornings just to put on the ham so she could take it out of the oven before church. Imagine her peeling all those potatoes so her grandkids could have the mashed potatoes they love. Imagine her making Amy a cherry pie because it was her favorite. Imagine her thinking about seeing all her kids and her grandkids. Imagine her worrying about her house and carpet after the kids broke their hardboiled eggs and stepped on them. Can you and I be such a mom? I hope I can.
Shawna, Mother’s Days are just a way of remembering our mothers. It is a day for showing appreciation, but believe me when I say, it is just another day for most mothers. In fact, I would even say it is one of the busiest days of the year for us. Yesterday, it was a little easier for me because we cooked outside, but it was hectic for me. I got to do all the things I love to do. I cooked and cleaned the house in the morning, cleaned the back patio, mowed the yard with the push mower, took a nap, and had my family over for dinner. It was an easier pace than those of years past, but still very stressful to make sure all the food was out and that everything was done on time.
Don’t rush it Shawna. Enjoy life, even those days that seem impossible. You will miss them someday. Don’t worry if Blaine doesn’t want to eat at my house. He is excited to be with his family. Don’t worry if Logan is crying with me. I can handle it. If not, I will give him back. Don’t worry about whether Blaine spills his drink. It will clean up. In the end, it just isn’t important.
I love you,
Mom
The day after Mother’s Day, 2007.
Yesterday you called me to tell me that your Mother’s Day wasn’t going as you had hoped or expected. That started me thinking and remembering all of my past Mother’s Days and other holidays. They were all joyous, but they were always a busy and trying day for me. I would love to live just one of those days again with Grandma. I would do all the hard work and even more to have one last Mother’s Day with her and Grandma Tucker.
Until Grandma Tucker died we almost always went to her house on Mother's Day. We could not make both places so your dad and I compromised, Easter with the Dawkins’ and Mother’s Day with her. You kids had your cousins to hunt Easter eggs with so that seemed to be a logical way of spending the holidays. I felt it was important to be with her because we were her closest relatives and she like showing off her family. My mom had four other kids to be with her. Grandma Tucker didn’t have anybody after Shirley married Minor and moved to Texas. Grandma T. went to church every Sunday alone so having someone go with her was special to her. She loved to show you kids off to her other family, her church family.
Now I will tell you about Mother’s Day from my perspective. My Mother's Day morning at her house usually usually went something like this. “Johnny, we aren’t even up yet, and she is cooking our breakfast. Oh yum.” “Kids, get up. Grandma has breakfast ready.” Thought—I wouldn’t have to wash these dishes if we could get her to let us get McDonald’s. Oh well, I give up. “Kids, get your teeth brushed.” “Johnny, did you bring Steven’s dress shoes? I can’t find them.” “Shawna, come in the bedroom. I have to take the rollers out of your hair.” “Kids, quit fighting or I am going to put you in a corner. Right now! Johnny, where are you?!!!!!!!” “Johnny, did you bring the camera?” “Shawna, no wonder it hurts. Stand still and it won’t. I have to get the comb through it. Let’s cut your hair when we get home. No way, we aren’t going to give you a perm. I can’t get the brush through it, now!” “Steven, get your belt on.” Thought--We could get ready a lot faster if Johnny would turn that TV off. “Kids, get your Bibles.” “Shawna, are you going to take that old purse? That dusty old thing Grandma got out of her closet? That is for play. Oh, go ahead. It’s OK.” Thought—We are going to be late if we leave now and Johnny wants to picks roses for our lapels? “Hurry, get in the car. Steven, put that stick down. Scoot over so Grandma can get in.”
Thought—Whew, I didn’t think we were going to make it on time and now we are here and Sunday School hasn’t even let out. Now I can breathe. I wonder what she wants to do about lunch. Probably Wendy’s. At least we didn’t have to cook anything. We are going to have to leave as soon as we get out of church. That is going to break her heart. It would be sad for me, too, if I were in her shoes. I always hate to see her lingering on the porch waving us off. At least we have her. I can’t believe she gets around as well as she does. I hope my mom does as well when she gets to be 85. I wonder what Mom is having for lunch. Wish I could be there.
After Grandma Tucker died in 1994, we started going to Grandma Dawkins. You kids were grown by then and could get ready on your own. Even still it was a rush because you kids took longer to get ready. I still had lots of food to prepare, etc. It was still a stressful time for me. Easter’s were even more hectic than any Mother’s Day.
Easter included making sure that you didn’t get your new Easter clothes dirty which meant we didn’t put them on you until just time to go out the door. Breakfast meant a toast popped into the toaster, if that. Usually, we were in such a rush to get to church on time, it is a wonder you kids were even in the car with us.
Remember all those years I took food, especially dumplings to Grandma’s? That took days of planning. I cut in the shortening for the dumplings the day before and left them on the counter top ready for the milk, mixing, rolling, and dropping into the boiling liquid Easter morning. No small feat. I cooked what I could on Saturday and refrigerated them until ready to heat. More than once, we got up to the school and had to turn around because I forgot something. The cooking part alone, was an all morning affair—let alone trying to get two little ones ready for church and making sure they had their Easter baskets. That brings up the subject of Saturday, the day before Easter, which was as busy as Easter.
Was your dad helpful, yes, but dads do not see what needs to be done as well as moms? Moms know that little girls need their new white purse and usually know where to find it—unless that little girl has hidden it from her brother. Moms know that boys need to have their shirt tails tucked in and that they need their belts on. Moms are bad about wanting pictures, though. Dads don’t see the importance. Moms have to let dads know what needs to be done. Sometimes it takes turning off the TV. Sometimes that is all we Moms need to make us calmer. When I was very stressed, turning off the TV made the difference me being a witch and me just being a mean mom. That was meant to be funny, but I think you understand what I mean.
You probably remember those times I described above, but can you or I even imagine what Grandma went through. Imagine her getting up at 4:30 on Sunday mornings just to put on the ham so she could take it out of the oven before church. Imagine her peeling all those potatoes so her grandkids could have the mashed potatoes they love. Imagine her making Amy a cherry pie because it was her favorite. Imagine her thinking about seeing all her kids and her grandkids. Imagine her worrying about her house and carpet after the kids broke their hardboiled eggs and stepped on them. Can you and I be such a mom? I hope I can.
Shawna, Mother’s Days are just a way of remembering our mothers. It is a day for showing appreciation, but believe me when I say, it is just another day for most mothers. In fact, I would even say it is one of the busiest days of the year for us. Yesterday, it was a little easier for me because we cooked outside, but it was hectic for me. I got to do all the things I love to do. I cooked and cleaned the house in the morning, cleaned the back patio, mowed the yard with the push mower, took a nap, and had my family over for dinner. It was an easier pace than those of years past, but still very stressful to make sure all the food was out and that everything was done on time.
Don’t rush it Shawna. Enjoy life, even those days that seem impossible. You will miss them someday. Don’t worry if Blaine doesn’t want to eat at my house. He is excited to be with his family. Don’t worry if Logan is crying with me. I can handle it. If not, I will give him back. Don’t worry about whether Blaine spills his drink. It will clean up. In the end, it just isn’t important.
I love you,
Mom
Written as only a Mother could.. Love it Regina. I still say you missed your calling. You should have been a newspaper columnist.. Something like "Thoughts from Gina's head"
ReplyDeleteSo now I can go to bed with tears still in my eyes! Thanks a lot! Seriously though, great letter. Love you! RJF
ReplyDeleteYou do have a way with words. Every time I read something of yours, I recall more memories. It was always hectic around any holidy, getting everyone togther and on time.
ReplyDelete