Walk in the Woods

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Journal: #120 Happy Birthday Momma

It wasn’t to be. None of it. They didn’t know their youngest daughter wanted something different for her life, and was willing to risk the known for the unknown. They couldn’t see how she was willing to try new things and explore new places.

It’s my mother’s birthday today. She was born sixty-four years ago in a small hospital in the rural town of Grove City, Pennsylvania. Her father wasn’t in the room or even in the building. 1956 was a different era, and thusly he waited for the news of my mother’s safe arrival from Aunt Red’s house down the street. Grandpa probably smoked cigarettes and drink coffee with one ear toward the phone, hoping for a boy.

At that moment, no one knew how much their world would change. In 1956, TV was the big new technology, Elvis Presley released his first hits, and America began to build its highway system. All the big movie stars, sports heroes, and musician were mostly white. Southern Blacks, either by fear or systemic repression, rarely voted. And women earned considerably less than men. Bill Gates and Steve Jobs were both in diapers, and Silicon Valley was just starting to rise.

Born To Be Who She Is

Born in the early morning, my infant mother was soon home with her sisters. It was a world of dolls, dresses, and routines. It was the world of a hard working blue collar family. Men did men things and women did women things. Her dad welded train cars during day, and operated a small farm on nights and weekends. My grandmother cooked, cleaned, mended and made clothes, rendered lard, baked everything imaginable, and did just about everything else worth doing for her family. It was a full time job no less demanding than the welding job my grandfather held.

I suspect my grandparents thought my mom, the youngest of six girls, would be like them. After or even perhaps during high school, my mom would find a nice hardworking boy and get married. I assume they thought she would live close, if not in town, maybe on a farm like their own. She’d have children, come over for Thanksgiving dinner, and help make rock candy before Christmas.

It wasn’t to be. None of it. They didn’t know their youngest daughter wanted something different for her life, and was willing to risk the known for the unknown. They couldn’t see how she was willing to try new things and explore new places. She met a boy alright, but nice is not how most people would describe him. Soon after they got married, she was off to Spain, then on to South Carolina, before settling in New York (and finally back to South Carolina.)

My mother was never dismissive of her parents, but is her own momma. It’s a real testimony to who my mother is. Whatever mistakes my grandparents made with my her, she used as fuel to be a different parent for me and my siblings.

The Best Gifts

Like anyone, my mom isn’t perfect, and made mistakes as a mother. My parents were young parents, farm kids trying to make on their own away from family. They didn’t know much about finances or going to college or southern culture. The greatest gifts my parents gave us are the best gifts any parent could give a child.

For my mother’s part, she is supportive, kind, and willing to listen. Sure, she bought me socks and underwear for Christmas every year for over a decade. Eventually, she stopped after I asked her to stop. Sweet and kind as she is, my mother is also a stubborn rock. She’ll quietly push her way to the front of the line, or be the type of persistent any customer service agent hates to encounter. Her kind stubborn nature enables her to be the mom her kids need whether we know it or not.

More than that, my mom is faithful and generous. She’s compassionate and loyal. And my God, she’s willing to learn, to grow, and be a better version of herself than she was last week. I love that about her. At almost 64 years old, that old farm girl is still learning new tricks and looking to make the world a better place.

Going Out On Top

When I recently asked her about what she wants to do in retirement she didn’t let me finish the sentence. I asked because I was worried she didn’t have a plan. I was worried she end up sitting at home to play sudoku on her iPad. I should’ve know better. For the next ten minutes she detailed her plans to feed the “olderly”, hold orphaned babies at the hospital, and volunteer in local food shelters (my mom is a damn Shakespeare clone, as she makes up new words everyday, old + elderly = olderly.)

That’s my mom. When other people are planning trips on cruise ships, she’s planning to love the forgotten and the unlovable. (Still, I hope she takes a trip or two. She’s deserves it.) She’s not gonna slow down or stop learning. God bless her.

Happy Birthday momma. You’re the rock of our family and you deserve the best. I love you so much, and I’m glad we are friends. I can’t wait for my future wife and kids to meet you.

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