Wednesday, June 6, 2012

How my mother ruined me

This whole moving experience has been exhausting. I don't remember it being this stressful 6 years ago. But then again, I only had a baby. We've been learning tons. And have gotten frustrated. And have been blown away by how evident God's hand has been. I specifically prayed for that. We really didn't think any of this would actually work out, so I prayed that God would make Himself VERY evident. Thanks for the listening ear, Lord. :) In the midst of it all, I've been forced to look back over the past 6 years, and wonder what the next 6 will be like. That's when I realized my mother ruined me. I have a very vivid, clear memory. Growing up, our home was ALWAYS clean. Of course there were a few times when Jamie's room was messy, (grin) but we were never allowed to go to bed with it looking like that. There was ALWAYS dinner. There was never a "well, can you just have another bowl of cereal?" Or a "here's bread and butter". My children probably take comfort in those words, whereas I had never heard them in my childhood. The grass was always mowed. Every single room was decorated, vaccuumed, and dusted. She NEVER sat and watched tv during the day. She was rarely on the phone. Internet didn't exist. I never had to climb over a 4 inch pile of shoes, socks and toys in the car to get my seatbelt on. Our clothes were clean and put away, unless of course my dad got home first and hung our bras on the ceiling fan. In other words, my memories were far different than my own kid's memories will be. And I hate that. She ruined me. Her standard was way too high. Of course I don't remember the "poor" days. Days spent filling the holes of the pickup with old underwear so they wouldn't arrive at church covered in dust. Or days upon days of eating deer meat for breakfast, lunch and dinner because there wasn't money for anything else. I have no memory of those times. As far back as I remember, whenever I was struggling with something, she'd softly sing "Count Your Blessings". It probably annoyed me. But after I birthed my own daughter, I quietly sang those words each and every night. She's 3 1/2 now and won't go to bed without it. But tonight was different. She sang along. And I was swimming in tears. For some reason I never expected it. Didn't think it meant all that much to her. I just did it as a reminder.... for myself. But instead it's ingrained in her mind as a memory. And I wasn't even trying. It made me think about all of those memories I have, and wondered how many of those were made on purpose. Such conviction. It's not the memories that I'm trying to force, but rather my daily motions. That's what they'll remember. Thanks for ruining me, mom. :)

4 comments:

  1. beautiful Meg. Thanks for sharing:)

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  2. Well Meg, if a girl HAD to be ruined by a mother...I can think of very few others who would be as great to be "ruined" by....Love Ya! Sue

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  3. Oh and your dad told my dad the whole "bra on the ceiling fan" story :-) and a couple others that aren't "blog" appropriate :-)

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  4. Aw, this is a special post, Megan. I can't say that my home growing up was all that clean and tidy so my mom didn't necessarily ruin me that way but she was ALWAYS very sacrificial. There were many MANY nights of her staying up way too late to iron clothes for me, type up book reports (because SHE wanted ME to get sleep), meals always made (or you know...take out)...never did we want for anything. It's funny how different our generation is raising kids...in some ways worse and in some ways better. I'm thankful for a good Christian home in which I was raised as I know you are too. All we can do is strive to be our best knowing full well that sometimes our best is another slice of bread and butter...that's okay. Those precious moments in the night before bed are what it's really all about anyway...and counting our blessings...every single one. Thankful for the moms who came before us but also grateful for being the mom who we are...warts and all. ;)

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