IAs I write my weekly blog, it is Mother’s Day today. My mother and I have a strained relationship at times. We are two completely different people. My mother does not get me. She does not understand my love for sports, my thoughts on religion, nor what I saw in my wife. We have very little in common so it can be challenging to have a conversation. She has a limited world view and many of her thoughts are fear based. She never finished high school which contributes to her naivete when it comes to business, politics, and technology.
I do not mean to suggest that these are shortcomings because what my mother has is an undying love for her family and family is all that matters to her. My brother, sister, and I not only had the essentials like food, clothing, and shelter, but we also had the extras. Christmases were always magical. Santa never missed any item on our wish list. Birthdays were cool too. As a 12-year-old I got a TV for my room, and I was ecstatic. That was completely unheard of 50 years ago. (I later found out that my parents got that TV indirectly for themselves because I was hogging the family TV watching a ballgame lasting for hours). In my college days, my mom got me a car to get around. It was nothing fancy by any means. It was a beater. It was ten years old and rusting out, but it ran and got me around town. Again, I was ecstatic.
My mom will be 90 later this year. Early-stage dementia is becoming more prevalent. She is getting forgetful and repeats herself constantly. When I come over for my weekly visit, it is exhausting. I hear the same story three or four times within the hour. She does not know the names of her grandkids, and she doesn’t even know that she has nieces and nephews.
While I can get dejected about the current situation, I try to stay upbeat and accentuate the positive. There is one major impact that my mother had on my life. She was my first teacher. I was always blessed with a mathematical mind, and I could always read at a higher grade level. My mother saw that early potential, and during my kindergarten year, she taught me arithmetic, reading and cursive writing. I was a sponge soaking it in and I always wanted to learn more. As a result of that, I skipped grade two. For almost my entire school years I was a year younger than all of my classmates. That forced me to be a better student, athlete and a person in general. That teaching had a ripple effect on me for the rest of my life. If I had not skipped grade two, I would not have met my life long best friend and probably not my wife. I have my mother to thank for that, and I will always be appreciative of that.
When the almighty Father decides to take my mother, I will not miss the passive aggressiveness, the religious intolerance, the shooting from the hip and her naivete. What I will miss is her undying love and the impact she had on my life by being my first teacher. Those thoughts always get me through the challenging times of her cognitive decline. Happy Mother’s Day mom. I love you.