My Mom is only 5' 2" but in my eyes she's a giant.
After my Dad was killed firefighting when us four kids were only ages five through thirteen, my Mom raised us all by herself. She was always there for us, through our entire lives, even now when we're ages forty five through fifty three. She will always be there for us, as long as she's alive and probably after she goes to Heaven, too.
What really makes Mom special to me is not just the love she gave us but that love was unconditional for children that she and Dad adopted when we were babies. Not one of us is blood related to another but she treated us probably better than most blood related children are treated. I've always been grateful to her for the way she gave up a social life to stay home with us as we were growing up. She never had to work because Dad's fireman's pension was enough to keep the family going. Thank God Dad had things set up in case something happened to him.
When we were toddler age Mom took each of us to pre-school for a couple years. This wasn't the kind where you drop your kid off so you can go to work, there weren't very many of those back then. This pre-school was a learning center for parenting and observing toddlers. We learned, we sang, we danced, we made things and went on field trips. My Mom was always with us every step of the way.
When in elementary school she made our lunch everyday except for Fridays when we could buy lunch in the cafeteria if we so chose. That's when lunches were made at the school, not shipped frozen in a truck and dropped off once every two weeks. The lunches Mom made had a sandwich, a piece of fruit, and two different kinds of the cookies she made that week. That was something special too, that she made cookies, baked bread, and was a fantastic cook but never really seemed to spend a lot of time in the kitchen.
Mom always kept the house sanitary but not spotless. It was safe and clean but we still had fun in it. We weren't allowed to ride our bikes in the house of course (yet she allowed my daughter to ride her Big Wheel up and down the hallway! Go figure!), but we found other ways to have our fun in the house - as well as outside the house. We lived (live) in a very nice neighborhood where the kids were able to play in the street after dark (it's still that way!) and so us kids and the neighborhood kids played a lot of baseball and hide-and-go-seek. That was my favorite, especially after I pitched a ball to my big brother who cracked it hard and the ball ended up landing square on my jaw, knocking me to the ground, almost knocking me out. Hide-and-go-seek was much safer, in my book.
Mom taught us how to cook and signed me into cooking classes at our local Gas Company where they would have a bake off contest and the winners would get respective ribbons for their prized baked item. I was two years too young to join the classes so Mom lied about my age for two years because she knew I was a good cook like her and I could handle it. I was nine years old three years in a row. Heh, heh. The problem came when I won a bake off and the newspaper would print it in the local fish wrapper (ha) with my name and age and what I made, recipe included. We just pretended like the paper made a mistake when I was the same age three years in a row. Ha, ha.
Mom also taught me how to sew. We made umpteen doll clothes with the scraps we had from the clothes my mother made for my sister and I. I think I was the only kid on the block who had Barbie clothes that matched my own clothes. Now when I look at those tiny little Barbie clothes with teeny weeny zippers and buttons, I can't believe we made them, they're so SMALL! I started making my own clothes too, when I was old enough and won a couple awards in sewing contests in Junior High. I attribute any cooking or sewing award to my Mom who taught me so well. When I was in high school and the Ditto jeans were "IN" and all the girls at school were wearing them, Mom made my sister and I a pair of jeans that resembled Dittos so much no one could tell they weren't. In fact, some of the girls argued with me that they HAD to be the Ditto brand and my mother couldn't possibly have made them! She was that good.
Is she starting to sound like Mother Teresa? If not yet, you'll soon think so...
This post is continued here: My Mom - Mother Teresa
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