Mom Hugs

This is my second Mother’s Day without my mama. Many of you have been without your moms a lot longer. Yet every Mother’s Day our thoughts turn to them, by choosing, or not.

I struggled for a few years with unpleasant and broken memories about my mother. Her last years were miserable and sadly, those are the thoughts that tumble out all too often. The moments through the years that were hard then also seem magnified looking through the lenses of hurt and sorrow.

Lately, though, walking in a place of healing and renewed vision, I am reminded of the blessings and the good times. There are MANY!

My mother really was a unique and energetic individual. It is evident everywhere I look in her life, in her garden. As I am still in the midst of purging belongings and photos and letters, I am learning even more about her.

The other day, I began reading letters she had written to my Great Aunt Betty while my dad was in the Marine Corps and into retirement. Each letter, though brief, was a vignette of the happenings in our family’s life through the years. She had three small children she was managing by herself for several years, adding work as well during a time when moms did not work outside the home. There were so many little details and occurrences that I vaguely remember and many that I knew nothing about.

My youngest brother has no memory of his growing up years and my first thought was that these letters would be a valuable gift for him to put the pieces together of our younger years, but also a picture of what our mother was like in the midst of those years.

My respect for her grit was upped a notch when I read them. Also, the fact of her faithful communication with my dad’s extended family that she barely knew. She knew how much they loved my dad and his children, so she maintained the letter writing through decades.

(Caveat: My Aunt was also undiagnosed OCD and kept every little scrap of paper. This pile I discovered were the letters that she had kept with careful notes about everyone written in the margins. That is what preserved this treasure trove of letters and memorabilia.)

It occurs to me, as I cherish each little bit of information, that I am digging into a well of great generational blessing. My mother was standing on the shoulders of the moms who came before her…

My grandmother Mabel. My Great Grandmother Nanny. Her mother and grandmother before her. Her older sisters who taught her much; Katie, Carol, Martha and Wheat. Plus all the women, perhaps not related by blood, but nevertheless sowing a mother’s blessing into my mom. She then passed it all down to me. I handed it down to my daughter and her daughter, who will be followed by her daughters and grand daughters. The beautiful cycle goes on and on….

A mom’s hug.

As we consider our mothers, let’s allow the flood of memories to wash over us and bless us richly. Receive those hugs, and cling to the aprons where we cut our teeth and wiped our tears. Even the ferocious battles for independence, on both sides, carry a hidden blessing that brought us to the places we are today.

We stand on hallowed ground as mothers following mothers…

“So keep your thoughts continually fixed on all that is authentic and real, honorable and admirable, beautiful and respectful, pure and holy, merciful and kind. And fasten your thoughts on every glorious work of God, praising Him always.”

~Philippians 4:8 TPT