My Most Embarrassing Moment
I'm not proud of it.
At a Mother's Day event several years ago (but not enough years for me to not be completely humiliated by this story) I was jarred by the experience of watching several groups of women stand up and extol their mothers as the most wonderful, amazing, fabulous women in the entire world. A couple of my sisters and my mom were also at the event, but we did not (as I recall) stand up and similarly wax eloquently about our mom.
I must have been in a major funk that day, because as I was driving home, I started having what my dad calls a POME (loosely pronounced "Poor Me") Party, feeling sad that I couldn't say all of those nice things about my mom like all of those other women could. (Anyone who knows my mom is shaking his/her head in shock and dismay right now).
It really was my most embarrassing moment.
Sitting alone in the car that day, I knew I was missing something, but I honestly fit the part of "ungrateful child" pathetically well. It jarred me. I wondered if my own children would feel this way about me someday. Would I be the "Ho-Hum-Everyday Mom" that no one appreciates, too?
Now my mom is a humble woman who is too busy loving and caring for others to spend her time trying to convince people that she is a fabulous person. So after knowing her for 30 some years, I think I stopped really looking at her and started taking her for granted. As an information age mom, I didn't have had to make a million phone calls to her asking how to boil water, what this rash might be, or how to get my kids to sleep at night. Even in my thirties, I was still acting like a teenager thinking that I knew more than my mom.
Then one day a few years ago, my friend Sarah randomly congratulated me on my mom. It was weird. Sarah heard that my mom was present at my baby's birth, and she said, "That must have been such a consolation. I wish your mom could be there when I deliver my babies!" I chuckled to myself and thought how funny my mom would find this conversation. She wasn't actually AT the birth, she was praying fervently in a different room. She's more of a "Come and get me when it's done, I already did that five times and it was enough!" kind of lady.
The crazy thing was that Sarah had never actually spoken to my mom. When I asked her why she liked my mom so much, she said, "Whenever I see her, I just feel so peaceful. She just has a kindness and a light to her. I want to be in your family so that I can have her as my mom!" It might be the second most embarrassing moment of my life. Interiorly, I was ashamed that I had ignored something so obvious that a stranger to my mom could see from far away.
As I have reflected on these two experiences, I have learned a lot about my mom and myself. First, it totally escaped my notice that the women who made their mothers stand up for applause at the Mother's Day event were at least 30 years older than I am. These wise women had no doubt gone through times of taking their mother for granted, too, but they grew up and out of it. They knew that their moms wouldn't be with them forever, and they weren't going to let the opportunity to honor her pass by. I should not be jealous of them. I should learn from their example.
Second, I need to expect that my children will not always be able to see me for who I am. Especially in situations where life was basically good, it's easy to sit in a comfortable place and judge our mothers for not making everything great. My mom truly is a gentle, generous, happy, loving, self-sacrificing, smart, and caring woman. She just isn't those things in the way I see them in other people. She's all those things in a familiar way. Our moms are like the water we swim in and the air we breathe, but as life is speeding by, it is very difficult to recognize and properly reverence the miracle of air to breathe and water to swim in. These two events have given me a whole new lens with which to view this amazing woman to whom I literally owe my life.
Just a few days ago on a long drive with a friend, I was sharing the story of my growing up years, and I told her about my mom. As I listened to myself share about mom's education (a triple major!), her entrepreneurial spirit, her extraordinary love and support for my dad, and her devotion to her family, I realized that I had come a long, long way since that fateful Mother's Day several years ago. I don't think it was my mom who changed. I feel like every single Mother's Day card in the store leaves a little to be desired when it comes to telling my Mom how amazing she is and how much I love and appreciate her. Humble as she is, I'm sure she'd be embarrassed by all the attention, but as embarrassing moments go, I don't think it would be too bad.
At a Mother's Day event several years ago (but not enough years for me to not be completely humiliated by this story) I was jarred by the experience of watching several groups of women stand up and extol their mothers as the most wonderful, amazing, fabulous women in the entire world. A couple of my sisters and my mom were also at the event, but we did not (as I recall) stand up and similarly wax eloquently about our mom.
I must have been in a major funk that day, because as I was driving home, I started having what my dad calls a POME (loosely pronounced "Poor Me") Party, feeling sad that I couldn't say all of those nice things about my mom like all of those other women could. (Anyone who knows my mom is shaking his/her head in shock and dismay right now).
It really was my most embarrassing moment.
Sitting alone in the car that day, I knew I was missing something, but I honestly fit the part of "ungrateful child" pathetically well. It jarred me. I wondered if my own children would feel this way about me someday. Would I be the "Ho-Hum-Everyday Mom" that no one appreciates, too?
Now my mom is a humble woman who is too busy loving and caring for others to spend her time trying to convince people that she is a fabulous person. So after knowing her for 30 some years, I think I stopped really looking at her and started taking her for granted. As an information age mom, I didn't have had to make a million phone calls to her asking how to boil water, what this rash might be, or how to get my kids to sleep at night. Even in my thirties, I was still acting like a teenager thinking that I knew more than my mom.
Then one day a few years ago, my friend Sarah randomly congratulated me on my mom. It was weird. Sarah heard that my mom was present at my baby's birth, and she said, "That must have been such a consolation. I wish your mom could be there when I deliver my babies!" I chuckled to myself and thought how funny my mom would find this conversation. She wasn't actually AT the birth, she was praying fervently in a different room. She's more of a "Come and get me when it's done, I already did that five times and it was enough!" kind of lady.
The crazy thing was that Sarah had never actually spoken to my mom. When I asked her why she liked my mom so much, she said, "Whenever I see her, I just feel so peaceful. She just has a kindness and a light to her. I want to be in your family so that I can have her as my mom!" It might be the second most embarrassing moment of my life. Interiorly, I was ashamed that I had ignored something so obvious that a stranger to my mom could see from far away.
As I have reflected on these two experiences, I have learned a lot about my mom and myself. First, it totally escaped my notice that the women who made their mothers stand up for applause at the Mother's Day event were at least 30 years older than I am. These wise women had no doubt gone through times of taking their mother for granted, too, but they grew up and out of it. They knew that their moms wouldn't be with them forever, and they weren't going to let the opportunity to honor her pass by. I should not be jealous of them. I should learn from their example.
Second, I need to expect that my children will not always be able to see me for who I am. Especially in situations where life was basically good, it's easy to sit in a comfortable place and judge our mothers for not making everything great. My mom truly is a gentle, generous, happy, loving, self-sacrificing, smart, and caring woman. She just isn't those things in the way I see them in other people. She's all those things in a familiar way. Our moms are like the water we swim in and the air we breathe, but as life is speeding by, it is very difficult to recognize and properly reverence the miracle of air to breathe and water to swim in. These two events have given me a whole new lens with which to view this amazing woman to whom I literally owe my life.
Just a few days ago on a long drive with a friend, I was sharing the story of my growing up years, and I told her about my mom. As I listened to myself share about mom's education (a triple major!), her entrepreneurial spirit, her extraordinary love and support for my dad, and her devotion to her family, I realized that I had come a long, long way since that fateful Mother's Day several years ago. I don't think it was my mom who changed. I feel like every single Mother's Day card in the store leaves a little to be desired when it comes to telling my Mom how amazing she is and how much I love and appreciate her. Humble as she is, I'm sure she'd be embarrassed by all the attention, but as embarrassing moments go, I don't think it would be too bad.
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| This was the second World Youth Day I attended with my mom. This one was in Krakow, Poland. Do you see why I am so embarrassed by my lapse in gratitude & amazement at the wonder of my mother??? |
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| Mom and Dad with all of their children! |
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