I’m having some issues with/about my mother lately and I feel the need to think about what a good mother she’s been and how she nurtured me the best she could.

My mother is one of my mothering influences. She met my father at the ripe old age of 21 and married him soon after, although he was in his forties and had sevral children from his prior marriages, some of whom weren’t much younger than she was. My mother accepted, loved, and cared for my brothers and sisters just like her own. She never allowed us to call each other half brother half sister, and always corrected people who tried to do that with us. She set the standard for me, I do the same with my own blended family.

My mother is very beautiful. She has pretty brown skin and the curliest afro hair, and big brown eyes. When I was a kid I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and I still do. Sometimes I’ll see myself in a mirror or window and see my mother. It makes me smile.

My mother made up little songs to sing just to me, and she read to me often. Now that I am a mama of 3, I realize just how hard it must have been for her to carve out individual time and attention for each child, but she managed to do it. My mother respected my independence from a young age. I was fond of declarative statements at the age of 4. I’d say “I won’t eat meat when I grow up!” or “I won’t comb my hair when I grow up!” or “I will never sleep when I am grown up! and you can’t make me!” and she’d gently say that’s fine Trula, but for now, just try a little bite of meat. Just sit still a little longer while I finish doing your hair. Just close your eyes for a moment; just try to sleep.

My mother did not believe in hitting children but she also did not believe in going against her husband. When my father spanked us she’d stand by wringing her hands, saying oh Ernie that’s enough; they are children. Sometimes my father would stop hitting us or not start at all when my mother would begin crying in exasperation. She rarely hit us herself but when she did, boy, she would chase us around the house. Otherwise her preferred method of discipline was to sit us down and have us talk about our feelings about why we did whatever bad thing. Sometimes this talking would go on for an hour. My brothers and sisters and I hated this so much, we would joke that we preferred to have a whipping. My one brother actually did prefer the whipping, sometimes he’d ask her, “Can’t you just tell daddy when he gets home? A whipping is over in a few minutes, I’ve got to hear your mouth for an hour!”

My mother taught me about forgiveness. All of us, each and every single one of us kids put our parents through a lot of drama and stress during our teen and early adult years. My parents completely blame themselves. I feel they did the best they could, especially my mother. She never, ever threw anything back in my face. When I came home after finally leaving an abusive man, she folded me into her arms and said “My baby, my baby.” When I think now of the worry and pain I caused her, it makes me so sad. I have apologized to her about it and she just says “Shush, that’s all done with. I owe you an apology for not rescuing you away from that crazy man.” When I called her a few years ago about an issue I was having with my teenage daughter, she tactfully did not mention my own acting out at that age. She just listened to me vent and gave me sound advice.

My mother is a career woman. She tried hard to be a stay at home mom, and I know she valued the time she spent at home. But she was happier when she went back to work. She taught me that it was ok to work outside the home and also devote yourself to family. She has recently gone back to work after being retired for a few years. I think that’s great.

My mother was a crunchy earthy hip mama way back when. She had a garden which managed to thrive despite her children’s running back and forth through it. She made a lot of our food from scratch, like granola and bread and crackers and soups and cakes and pies, all kinds of things. She bought veggie burgers just for me at first, then for the whole family. She said it’s not fair to force Trula to eat meat all the time, let’s all try this. I was just 9 then and thought that was the nicest thing.

I could go on and on about my mother! I love her so.

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