My Mom used to say she didn't want to raise any stupid children. Or children with bad manners or that were rude or self centered. She wanted us to be bright, love to read and kind to others. Because we were poor was not a reason not to be rich in language and skills we could learn if we applied ourselves. As a child I struggled.
My youngest sister was reading the newspaper by the time she was 3. My brother was a micro electronics expert. My middle sister could make anyone her friend. And my brother had the skill I really wanted. He could draw.....well.
I always loved drawing. Pastel chalks, paint. My passion was pottery. Although I was good my brother was special. I got A's, but he got praise.
And as a teenager I went totally wild. I could not live up to what my mother wanted me to be. I had failed her. I couldn't do anything right. So I partied my way through school, bored out of mind because no one read the kind of things I read. No one wanted to be challenged. They all were making their mothers proud.
I married at 19 and had children at 22. And stopped being mad at my mother and started to listen to her again. And she told me by stupid children she didn't mean children who got the best grades, did all the right things, said all the right things. She wanted children who questioned everything. Looked at all the angles. Made up their own minds. And she was proud of me because although I didn't always make all the right choices she noticed I never repeated my mistakes. My mother was more then I could ever hope to be. She was such a incrediblely smart insightful woman.
So hummmm. What is making me so reflective today. I have surgery number....... god I have lost count coming up. I am sitting here drinking a great pale ale and watching the mother deer and her babies out the window. Zoey is bugging me for a treat and Chester is chewing on his new toy. Rick is going to the store to get some jumbo shrimp to grill, I have a nice bottle of Zin chilling. And I am feeling content.
I am not the person I thought I would be when I grew up. Not the famous artist, the the writer. Not the smartest bulb in the carton. But I am happy. And not all people can say that. And I know my mother would be...... was, proud of me.
Steph, POT and ER visits
1 year ago
6 comments:
I correct that to IS proud of you, even today. being happy lots of people dont' get to. you've managed something many are still seeking. that's a great accomplishment...
When my Father had a medical crisis at his facility(a few different times), it wasn't a writer or artist who was important to him, it was the excellent RN service they had on his floor. The nurses were also the women who hugged him & kissed him & listened to his stories, even though they had plenty of other patients to tend to. Each night, while they still had a floor's worth of patients to administer meds to(he was at the beginning of their route) they would watch as he counted & asked about each pill(that was one of his OCD things once he had dementia)& they would give him REAL answers, not "there there" like some give people who have lost so much cognition.
They worked thru their lunches & dinners & shared laughter & stories with him, & they were the first to put their arms around me & cry with me when he softly went to sleep for the last time. They were his angels, & mine too.
I am sure your Mother is very proud, Jules.
~Mary
I think you are plenty smart Julie. If you wasn't you would have never made a nurse. A compassionate nurse at that. I know you mother would be happy if she were around to see you now. A big hand and a hug to you. Enjoy watching those deer. They and those turkeys are going to keep you company after your shoulder surgery. Helen
It is never too late to take up your art again my hubby did it and took lessons again and was 64 at the time and loves it now having all this time we are supposed to have when you retire lol. Loved reading you entry tody. Love Joan
I agree she IS proud of you. Being happy is the most wonderful gift and so many are not blessed with it.
Happy and content - the ultimate! I'm so glad you got past being angry at your mother and came to find out what she really meant. I know she's be proud of you!
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