Happy Birthday Mom

Today is my mom’s birthday. How old is she? Well it is not polite to inquire after a woman’s age so let’s just say it is a milestone. A few years ago when we celebrated my dad’s birthday (same milestone) we, the kids and kids-in-law (or is that kid-in-laws), made quite a big deal about it. So not to be out-done (by ourselves) we have something up our sleeves for this one too, and true to form we will be late this time around as well (I can’t actually remember how late we were with Dad’s present, a year or something like that).

Yesterday my sister (Wendy) called me and said “would it not be great if we all sent Mom a continuous stream of SMS’s throughout the day affirming her as a Mom?” I thought that was a great idea, but it’s just not the way I roll. (Sorry Wends and other sibs). I think it is a little out of character for me and really don’t want to come across as fake. So because I know Mom is one of the 5 people who read my blog (a little blogging humour there), I thought I would post a tribute to (and for) my Mom here.

I was answering a few questions the other day about parenting and how things worked when I was a kid and how I would like things to work now that I am a parent. Mainly the questions were God shaped. Something occurred to me then and I wrote this  in response to the question “If you lived in a Christian home: how good were your parents at teaching you about faith as a child?  Did your parents do most of the work of teaching you about faith, or was it left up to the church to teach you what you needed to know?“

I grew up in a Christian home.  Mom and Dad were the perfect combination, in that together they gave us kids an awesome picture of who God is. Dad was the type to discuss scripture with the teachers in the temple, while Mom was turning over tables in the temple courtyard. One calm and the other full of passion. All I can say is that my folks never left it up to anyone else to teach us about faith.

Not that Dad would not turn over a few tables or that Mom was just passion. But when I think of my Mom, the one word that comes to mind in almost every sphere of her life was passion. Not the over-the-top-always-full-of-energy passion that most people would think of, but rather an inner fire that flamed brightly when life’s wind blew and fizzed and spat when life dumped cold buckets of water.

I don’t remember much from my childhood, tiny snippets really, and I am not sure if I remember them of my own accord or if I am remembering seeing photographs of the things I think I can remember.

I remember how, every now and then, Mom would prepare what felt like a feast for lunch. We would come home from school and the whole table would be set with yummy foods (for some reason hard boiled eggs stick out in my memory). This did not happen all that often and Mom told me later that she did that ’cause she thought that is what proper Moms would do and felt bad when she did not do it. But what made those days all the more special was the fact that they did not happen every day. Thanks Mom!

I remember that Mom worked in the tuck-shop at school every now and then. Those were special days, and not just because we would get treats from the tuck-shop, it was very cool for me to see Mom half way through the school day. I can still picture her looking out of the dark space that was the tuck-shop window, smiling at me when I got to the front of the line (or was it through the door, I think we might have jumped the queue those days as well). Thanks Mom!

I remember the frank and often embarrassing (especially if it happened in front of friends) explanations Mom would give us on the sex-ed front. I am so thankful for the way Mom handled this subject in that she did an amazing job of maintaining our innocence while not keeping us ignorant. I’d often hear tall tales on the playground and think “that’s rubbish” because Mom had already had that chat. Thanks Mom!

Mom and I had some seriously verbally charged fights when I was a teenager. With neither of us afraid to raise our voices and with me forgetting my place more often than not, the yelling could get quite spectacular. Sorry I yelled at you so much Mom. It was not right. I can’t remember the substance of most of those fights, but I do know that in every one of those instances you taught me a little bit more about who I am and how I relate to the world. And while I regret fighting like we did I do believe that we would not have the friendship we have today if it were not for some of those fights we had back then. (I can’t really say “Thanks Mom” at the end of this paragraph, can I )

Thank you, Mom, for teaching me that it is not un-manly to wash your own clothes (and iron them if necessary).

Thank you, Mom, for showing me the way around a kitchen. Thanks that I can still call to get a recipe straight.

Thank you for involving me in the care of my younger siblings. I have always been comfortable around babies because of this and have loved dealing with my own babies as a result.

Thank you for accepting my choice of wife and loving her like your own child.

Thank you that both of my girls could, from an early age, recognize your house with joy as we drove around the corner, and that they love their Ouma so much (even after the “sop blu nife” incident).

Thank you for coming over every Wednesday night to sit with the girls so that Marla and I can got to Community group.

Thank you for being you Mom! I know that on the road of parenting you always have regrets ( I have built up a few in my short years as a dad), but I want to tell you that I have no regrets with regard to your parenting, I would not change a thing, and even those things that you might wish you could change have made me who I am today, and (without sounding full of myself) I think I am pretty well balanced.

Happy Birthday Mom! Thank you for the last 36 years of your life. Those 36 years are the foundation upon which my life is built, the foundation upon which my marriage is built and the foundation upon which I will build the lives of my daughters.

I hope the next years of your life bring you joy, peace and much love.

Related Posts:

• The things kids say.
• I don't think I will try that again.
• Spit it out now
• Ninja Dog and the Thunder storm
• I fixed it!