Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Mother's day is coming

I appreciate my mother.  She wanted a baby for so long, and finally got me.  She was thirty-two, and I was her first child to make it... barely.  She had what was then known as uremic poisoning.  I think it's called toxemia now.  They warned her that I might not live.  In fact, there was a chance that both she and I would die.

My mom had such high hopes for me.  And I don't think I ever lived up to any of them.

I didn't marry a good Church boy.  I smoked and drank back then, although never in front of her.  Not out of respect, but knowing I'd get a lecture if I did. 

When I finally returned to the Church, it was the WRONG church.  So we couldn't discuss religion.

I was never able to bare my heart to my mother.  I couldn't be myself with her.  She so wanted me to fit the mold she made for me, and I don't fit into anyone's molds.  I'm sure I disappoint a lot of people because of this.

And yet, she loved me.  She would have laid down her life for me.

She had me in Church at least three times a week.  That's a good thing, believe it or not.  I learned to listen to boring sermons at a very young age, and actually get something out of them.

For years, I blamed all my faults on my mother.  Then one day I woke up and realized I wouldn't be who I am without my unique raising.  I enjoy life as much as anyone I know; would I, if I'd had a different kind of upbringing?

So, here's to my mom.  I don't think I did half as good a job raising my children as she did with me.  I only wish she would have let me be myself.  I hope my two children feel free to be who they really are, with me. 

Here's the poem I wrote about my mom, the day I finally woke up and realized how hard she tried.  She requested that I read it at her funeral, which I did.

(c) Donna Wood

I didn’t have a mother who would party every night,
Or run out to the taverns and then come in late, half-tight.
I didn’t have a mother who would sit in clouds of smoke
And puff on endless cigarettes while those around her choked.

I didn’t have a mother who would take God’s name in vain;
She never said a cuss-word, even when she was in pain.
I didn't have a mother who cheated on her man:
I'm sure my dad was well aware she was his biggest fan!

I had the kind of mother who would read the Holy Book,
And never gave pornography a single, fleeting look.
I had a mom who went to church at least three times a week,
And never lost her faith in God, though times were often bleak.

I had a mom who always made me learn my memory verse.
When I was sick, I had a mom who served me as a nurse.
I got a lot of spankings, ‘cause I had that kind of mother….
But looking back, I wouldn’t trade my mom for any other!




madcobug said...

You Mother sounds like my Mother was. That was a very good poem you wrote and it fits to a T what my Mother was. Helen

ksquester said...

 "She so wanted me to fit the mold she made for me, and I don't fit into anyone's molds.  I'm sure I disappoint a lot of people because of this." Mo...I always felt molds were for jello!  Anne

ryanagi said...

I can't help but LOL at the thought of you saying the word "pornography" at your Mom's funeral. ;-) But it's a great poem that says a lot about the kind of woman your Mom was. I think you turned out great and I'll bet your kids think you did a great job too.

bookncoffee said...

A very touching entry about you and your Mom.  Thanks for sharing all that.  I know what you mean about not fitting the mold.  In some ways your life sounds just like mine.  I'd say almost exactly....except for the toxemia part and I could write poems but don't often - LOL!.

tendernoggle said...

Your mom loved you no matter what your differences were.....and by her requesting your poem to be read at her funeral tells me how very proud you made her by writing your feelings for her down in verse.

You know that you have truly matured when you realize that you are responsible for your own actions and the way you turned out.... not your parents!

I loved the poem...it was so pretty and so much like my own mama!


msecz said...

thats a beautiful poem for your mother.... I wish I could write one for my precios mother too. She was a wonderful lady and like yours never heard her utter a bad word or talk bad about anyone.... I wish I could live my life over and get it right. Not that I was really bad just not as good as she was. Wonder how they got it right the first time.

toonguykc said...

Wow!  I appreciate you even more now that I know there was a possibility you almost didn't make it here during birth.  I almost didn't either, but I can never get anybody to give me details.  Maybe I'd rather not know.  The poem was gorgeous in every way.   Russ

bnanajm said...

Personally, I think you turned out just the way you were supposed to.  The first year I knew you online I wished I could meet you because you were yourself.  When I did meet you I was not at all disappointed because you were the same in person as online.  You have become a very cherished friend to me and I thank your mother for that.  She did a very good job Mosie.  :o)


csandhollow said...

Thank you for sharing this. It sounds like we had the same kind of mommy. I read this and just started blubbering.

whitedove3622 said...

I think I tried to fit my daughter into a mold. I see now how wrong that was. She is her own person and a lovely one that I am proud of. Your journal today hit home in many ways. Thanks Mo you really are special.

jeff466 said...

What a lovely posting about your Mom.  Thank you for sharing it and the poem you wrote.