I didn’t buy any Mother’s Day cards this year. I suck. I went down the aisle and got all choked up when I realized this was the first year of my life that I didn't have a grandma to send a Mother's Day card to and decided I would go back later and then it was Saturday and that just wasn't going to work.
I used to always have cards bought and mailed at least a
week before the holiday. Even the
seemingly cardless holidays like St. Patty’s Day and Halloween and National Hot
Dog Day. I was a card sending fool. Then I had another kid. Then I had another one after that one. And then I got a cell phone and a laptop and
a Facebook and it suddenly became much easier to procrastinate until the
eleventh hour and so I have fallen victim to the way of the new
millennium.
So here I sit, with one mom up the road, one Ma in Alaska, a
mother-in-law two hours away and two grandmas in heaven, one of which is a
recent inductee, thinking about mothers and the contributions of them on my
life. And they don't exactly have that section in Hallmark.
My mom is Rebecca Jane Neal Stover Redman, also known as
Becky, or to me, Mama. I could sugar coat
this and tell you that we had this beautiful, magical life together for my
first eighteen years, but that would be a lie.
We didn’t. We fought like cats
and dogs and we bumped heads at every turn.
You will never catch me saying that she didn’t (and doesn’t) love me
though. She and my dad also had their
fair share of head butting. It wasn’t
the most harmonious marriage to say the least.
I retreated to my room quite often and found my outlet in paper and
pen. Given different circumstances, who
knows if I would’ve found writing down my crazy thoughts so necessary? I’ve tried to explain my “need” to write to
some of my non-writing friends and they don’t get it. Sometimes when I feel something (good, bad,
or ugly) I HAVE to write. Sometimes I
feel like I can’t catch my breath until I write. It’s way down in me. And maybe if I had a perfectly harmonious
childhood, I would’ve never thought to seek refuge in my journal. My mom was silly also. I’m pretty sure I inherited a little
silliness. My mom always made time to go see and do for
those in need. She volunteered at
nursing homes and was constantly taking food to shut ins. She had (and still does) a heart for the
elderly. When my Momaw Stover was ill in
the nursing home, she would go down and visit her as frequently as any of the
rest of the family. I saw something not
long ago that said, “Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want
them to love you doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.” She loves me with all she has. No doubt about that.
My mom’s mom was Kathleen Eileen Knight Neal. Momaw Neal to me. She was a sweet, loving woman. She had four children and four
grandchildren. I remember going and
staying with her when I was a kid. She
was a widow and she could drive, unlike my other grandmother. She would drive to the post office down the
road in Pratt and right before the post office was a railroad track. I can remember the arms coming down to
indicate the train was coming and my Momaw saying that train was was down the
track and she wasn’t waiting and she would just zigzag right through those
arms. I guess I got my danger and bad
driving from her. Ha!
She had a heart of gold and would do anything for anybody.
My dad’s mom was Thelma Mae Settle Stover. Aka, Momaw Stover. If you know me, you will know what she meant
to me. If you’re some random person in
Ukraine who stumbled on my blog, I will need to explain. My Momaw held my heart. At the top of the extremely long list of contributions was her
time. She talked to me, she played with
me when I was a child, she constantly prayed for me and she listened to me. REALLY listened to me…like nobody in my life
has ever listened. She was quiet and
just listened. She didn’t listen and
interrupt and try to give me advice. She
listened purely and genuinely and as much with her heart as her ears. If I asked her for advice, she would offer it
and usually she was right. And by
usually, I mean always. She always
encouraged me to do the right things. She
was so selfless and I admired that so very much. She bragged on me like grandmothers do, even
though I certainly wasn’t worthy of all of her praise. When she was ill in the nursing home, people
used to tell me how lucky SHE was to have ME.
I used to think…If they only knew how I was the lucky one. There was no other place that I would’ve been
than by her side. She devoted her entire
life to being by mine. This year she
gets to spend Mother’s Day with HER mom though and that’s pretty awesome for
her.
My mother-in-law is Brenda Starr Pruitt Griffith. She has been in my life since 1996. She has always been there for me when I
needed her and unlike the textbook mother-in-law, she butts out when we don’t need
her :) When anything comes up suddenly, we know she
is just a phone call away and will be at our side as soon as she can hop in the
car and get here. I remember her coming
and staying with us after third-born entered the world and it was such a
blessing to me. She helped me with the
other children so I could take care of my new baby. She cooked and cleaned and I remember crying
when she left because I didn’t know how I would’ve done it without her andn I wasn't sure how I was going to do it when she left. She was with us during and after the infamous
derecho and taught me how to brew coffee without a coffeemaker and quite
possibly saved my life and the lives of my family members who I may have killed
if I went much longer without coffee.
And last but not least is Frances "Rose" Faulker Gasparetti, or "Ma." I have Faulker in me. Maybe it was destiny that I would love to write. She’s the woman who carried me for nine months and gave birth to me and held me and sobbed and then handed me over to my mom and dad. I found Rose last year
after a lifetime of wondering who my birth mother was. It was an amazing journey and has continued
to be an amazing journey as we learn more and more about each other. We have so many similarities and it’s so much
fun when we discover something and one of us says, “Oh my gosh! Me toooo!”
Rose taught me about selflessness and sacrifices. Finding her has given me a sense of
confidence that I have lacked my entire life.
She came to visit a year ago and we gathered with my friends and family
and I will never forget the words of my best friend the following day. She said, “You should’ve seen you. I have never seen you shine with such
happiness and confidence.”
Happy Mother’s Day to ALL of the MANY women in my life who
have helped shape me and nurture me and love me! It really does take a village.
~Until next time,
Lightning Bug
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