When Daughters Become Mothers

Being a new blogger myself, I haven't given enough attention on these pages to links with other great blogs.

Today, though I want to remedy that situation by sending you all to Theology of the Body, where you will read a lovely reflection written by a daughter about her mother.

It's a reflection we all ought to try as we mature and see our parents through the eyes of adulthood.

For my part, I can say that my own mother who gave birth to eight lively, intelligent and very opinionated children, had untold patience, care and love for all of us. She let us all go on to lead the lives we thought we
were meant to live, never holding on too tightly. What seemed to be criticisms at the time now appear for what they were: her attempts to mold us into loving, sensitive, and selfless adults.

Mom called us to high standards of frugality when her budget required that "we tighten our belts this month". She believed that a camping trip was an invigorating alternative to resort vacations. On those long road trips from Pennsylvania to Prince Edward Island , crammed into our station wagon with camping gear and essential clothing only, she led games of "I Packed My Trunk", and "Hinky Pinky" and many, many songs. When we were old enough we even sang in four part harmony, a feat not many families can boast.

Somehow Mom found money in the budget for all eight of us to have piano lessons, and she or my dad drove us 25 miles so we could take them. We all took turns practicing on an old upright piano they had acquired and painted white.

I don't imagine it was always easy to live on a pastor's salary, or for that matter to be a pastor's wife. But she entered into the heart and soul of each parish, accompanying my dad on his pastoral visits whenever it was helpful, going to meetings, and living with the occasional comments from parishioners about "all those electric lights on over at the manse". She made the wise decision to pay the electric bill herself, rather than listen to any more complaining about the "house that was lit up like a Christmas tree."

Mom and Dad are enjoying their retirement now and resting from their years of labor. They watch their children from a distance as we each attempt to raise our own sons and daughters, and they rarely offer advice. But their lives of sacrifice and good humor, and always giving more than they received have made their mark. And for that I am truly grateful.