Mothers, Your Children Are Learning From You, But You May Not Live To See The Results

Today would have been my mother's 80th birthday,.  I  refer to her in this blog as "She Who Is Exalted," or SWIE.  It's funny to me how so much of what she taught me I only started applying after she died.  So my message to all you moms out there is this:  Your children are learning from you, but you may not live to see the results.

One of the things I learned from my mother was to be observant of people and pay attention to what they say and do, then plan how to deal with them accordingly.  Like my mom, after I've seen and heard enough, I've pretty much sized someone up and I plan accordingly.  Unlike my mom, I didn't get good at this until later in life.  There's at least one person who is gone from my life who my mom warned me about from childhood.  Another person in my life is someone she met while I was in college and said, "Something ain't right about" that person.  It took me years to see what my mom saw after only one meeting.  And she was right.  Still is.  But she didn't live to see that I learned the lesson.

There are a lot of little things I learned from watching my mom that, when I don't do them, my life gets chaotic.  My mom was vigilant about always making sure we never ran out of toilet paper (no small feat with a family of eight); making sure there was always, always food in the fridge (for her, poverty wasn't a lack of money; it was an empty fridge); paying all her bills on the first of the month (which I now do); packing lunches and laying out the next day's clothes the night before (me, not so much); doing laundry daily (she washed towels every day -- again, we were a family of eight); keeping her house and us on a cleaning schedule; and making sure she never had less than a half a tank of gas in her car (she was afraid she'd need to get a sick child to the hospital in the  middle of the night).

My mom's standards about children are those I hope to live up with kids of my own because they are seared on my brain.   My mother would never let us leave the house in wrinkled or dirty clothes or without our hair being combed.  When I see a child out and about with wrinkled or dirty clothes or messed-up hair, I instinctively cringe and  hear my mother say, "Where do you think you're going?  Not like that you're not." My mother believed that children's appearances represent their parents' best efforts, and she refused to be misrepresented, especially when she worked so hard to keep us clean and fed.

My mother also insisted on manners.  We were taught not to ask for as much as a glass of water when we were visiting someone else's home.  We could have whatever was offered to us, and not too much, but we were not to ask.  And we were never, ever to open someone else's fridge.  My mom didn't want us acting like we hadn't been fed.

My mother also had higher expectations for her daughters because she felt the world was not fair when it came to women, and women had to be smart and fend for themselves because there were usually children depending on us.  She drilled into our heads to never, ever, EVAH depend on a man.  We girls heard this time and again:  "Do for self."  "Always have your own job, your own car, your own money, and your own home."  "Get your education so you don't have to depend on no man."  She didn't live to see all four of her daughter become homeowners, but she did live to see all of us girls get some kind of college degree, have our own money, and have our own cars. She knew before she died that we were capable of taking care of ourselves.

When it came to romance and men, my mom's advice was practical.  "You better try on them shoes before you buy 'em."  "Use birth control.  Ain't no excuse to get pregnant nowadays if you don't want to be."

The three character traits my mother could not stand were laziness, stinginess, and whining.  Whenever we were getting too lax with our chores, she'd go on a rant and rave that would have us all ducking for cover and running for the exits.  When we didn't want to share, she'd threaten to take whatever we were hoarding away from us and shame us into sharing by saying , "That's your sister (or brother)!  You're supposed to share with her (him)."  And when we whined about life not being fair, she'd suck her teeth and say, "Hmpf. Who promised you fair?  Well, they lied to you!."  Even now when I start to indulge in a personal pity party, I am reminded of what my mother said and become thankful for the times when the pendulum of good fortune swang in my direction.  And when the pendulum of good fortune swings away from me, I'm reminded of another lesson my mother taught me.  "Everybody falls down. Everybody.  You can lay down there for a while, but then you have to get up."  To this day, I have no patience for laziness, stinginess, or whining. I am my mother's daughter.  And as much as I doubt it sometimes, I am resilient.

So mothers, I write all this to say that even when you don't think your children are learning from you, they are.  They really are, but you may not live to see the results.  Just keep on planting those seeds of wisdom, even if they sprout in your children's heads and hearts after you're gone.  You will have done more for your children than many other parents who had no wisdom to impart.  And here's the kicker -- the wisdom gets handed down to your grandchildren and great-grandchildren, some of whom you might not ever meet.  My husband, Black Man Not Blogging (BMNB), is constantly quoting his grandmother:  "Don't say once what you can't say twice." "Cain't nobody ride your back if you don't bend over." "I'ma give you what you need.  If you need a hug, I'ma give you a hug.  If you need an ass whuppin', I'ma give you that, too."

Another lesson my mother taught me that she didn't live to see play out in my life was this:  "You only get one mother.  Y'all gonna miss me when I'm gone."

Truer words were never spoken.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

Words of Wisdom That Have Blessed Me

"You have to acknowledge and accept the fact that you can't have or be everything all at the same time." 

 ~ Teri Hatcher, as quoted in "Career Comeback:  Repackage Yourself to Get the Job You Want," Lisa Johnson Mandell

Gentle Readers, you know how I am:  If I find something that I think will help someone, I feel compelled to share it.  Well, these past few days, I've been treated to -- no, blessed with -- some real words of wisdom that have not only lifted me, but freed me.  Perhaps they'll do the same for you.

First are words of wisdom from my second-oldest sister (SOS).  Before I begin, let me tell you the value of having older sisters around when your mother is deceased.  Older sisters are like vaults of your late mom's wisdom, if for no other reason, because they knew your mom longer than you did and have more of her wisdom.  When I'm feeling down or blue, I love talking to my sisters -- all of my sisters are older than me -- because they'll just say something that my mom would have said to me if she were here that snaps me out of my situation and gives me a better perspective.  I'm so glad I was blessed in the birth order department, even if I didn't get the smokin' hot legs SOS got.

I was telling SOS how I felt tired and depleted after hosting a family meeting recently as part of my family's revolution.  We've finished all the education modules, and now we're discussing a book recommended by one of my BFFs, "The On-Purpose Person: Making Your Life Make Sense," by Kevin W. McCarthy.  SOS essentially gave my a spiritual b-slap with words to this effect:  Stop trying to be everything to everybody.  She counseled me that, as much as I have hopes and dreams for the younger folks in my family, people have to come into their own on their own and in their own time.  SOS told me that holding family meetings and trying to create a sense of family and support that others clearly don't want as much as I want for them -- as evidenced by their absence -- is a waste of time.  "They're not there yet, " SOS counseled, and they will get there, if they do, on their schedule, not mine.

BOOM!  Talk about a revelation!  Now I don't feel so bad about reclaiming my one Saturday a month for my book club and delegating the hosting and organizing of family meetings to others, to the extent that they want to keep the meetings going.  They're not there yet. 

I was also blessed with words of wisdom from one of my book club members, Joann, who turned 70 last week and doesn't look a day over 45.  God has been good to Joann.  That's not to say she hasn't had her struggles -- who hasn't?-- but she looks good and has a happy spirit.  When I asked Joann for words of wisdom to reach the age of 70 looking and feeling like she does, she gave me these words of wisdom someone imparted upon her:

1) Find a church;
2) Keep a job;
3) Rest.

Of these three, she said the most important was getting enough rest. 

Well, if you're looking for a church, or a house of worship of any faith, my soror Pamay Bassey has done the search work for you.  Her book, "My 52 Weeks of Worship: Lessons from a Global, Spiritual, Interfaith Journey," chronicles her visits to a different house of worship each week for a year.  I have to admit -- Black Man Not Blogging (BMNB) is happily ensconced in the Baptist church, and I've not followed.  I used to think that, as a married couple, we should endeavor to share the same faith for the sake of our kids (yes, we're moving along with our adoption plans.)  As I get older, I'm not so sure.  My dad is a member of the Apostolic church, an offshoot of the Church of God in Christ, while my mother's family has been in the African Methodist Episcopal church for decades (although I have a distant cousin who attends the same church as my husband.).  My parents seemed to have reached a religious detente during their marriage.  To be frank, I haven't even begun the search for a church, happily not worshipping at St. Mattress of the Springs in my bedroom on Sunday mornings.  I'm letting go of the idea that BMNB and I need to share the same faith.  I need to find my own spiritual path, even if it's different than his.  Pamay's book is a good place to start.

As for keeping a job, I've done that, but I want more than a job:  I want a calling.  That leads me to some words of wisdom imparted upon me by a former law teaching colleague who, like Joann, has been blessed with fabulous genes (she doesn't look a day over 40 and she's in her 60's), and an even more fabulous spirit.  I told her how frustrated I am about continuing in the practice of law when I feel I have other skills and talents I want to use, but I just don't know how.  First, she encouraged me to just keep writing.  Then she said these words of wisdom:  "Be patient.  Keep searching for your calling.  When you find it, you will know."  Patience has never been my strong suit, but I'd rather be patient and get what I want than be impatient and settle for something less.

Finally, SOS gave me some words of wisdom specifically for married women:  "Don't get lost in your marriage."  She cops to having done so in her marriage, which ended in divorce.  "If you get all lost in your marriage, make that man your entire world, and stop keeping in touch with your family and friends, what will you have if he leaves you?  Who will you have to talk to?"  I wouldn't say that I'm lost in my marriage (and perhaps I'm in denial on this one), but I am abysmal at keeping in touch with people who have been there for me. In fact, I owe more than a few family members and friends some phone calls right now.

Perhaps I need to heed my own words of wisdom.

I hope these words of wisdom bless you as much as they have blessed me, Gentle Readers.  Thanks for continuing to read and support my little postage stamp of the blogosphere.

BWB