It must be an age thing: when I was little, I remember speedily and greedily ripping the wrapping paper off each gift I received for any reason – at any time – rarely paying attention to the accompanying card.
As I got older, I started actually giving credence to the written words of the cards I received. So much so, that one of my sons rather humorously remarked, “Mom, seriously, it’s a card – not a testament written especially for YOU. Keep some perspective.”
Still I must admit, when I got a Mother’s Day card signed from all of my sons and replete with a pin (featured below), I was quite happy and pleased – even though I admit it wreaks of hyperbole:
The truth is that when we are raising our kids, we rarely know definitely and definitively how well we are doing our job of parenting. Advice columnist Carolyn Hax summed it up succinctly and wisely: “You don’t know…nor do any of us – what parental quirks will drive your kids nuts or screw them up or age into their living nostalgia.”
I decided to find out.
I asked each of my five sons these two questions:
What did I do during the years that I raised you that drove you nuts?
What did I do that you remember positively?
Answers to my first inquiry:
One son wrote my most annoying quality when he was growing up was my insistence on wearing jeans – all the time …even when more formal wear was more appropriate and that is why as an adult he has never owned a pair of jeans.
Another son said it made him crazy that our pantry was devoid of any sugar-coated cereal and our refrigerator never had any soft drinks. His brother confessed that my voice yelling upstairs or down to the basement to nag him to do something made /drove him nuts.
On the positive side, here’s the feedback:
“I always felt that you had my back and supported me and that you had energy to do so. In the middle school and early high school years, you had a great sense of humor about things and that made life fun.”
“One of your best qualities is that you don’t see people through a superficial lens.” He said he has never heard me utter a racist, or prejudicial or even a mean remark based on stereotypes or social class…that I judge people by the content of their character and that is very appealing.”
“You are a true matriarch and we are all lucky to have you,” was the last comment I received.
Why did my children’s words mean so much?
For one thing, my husband and I did not spend this Mother’s Day with any of our children. The dream of a big rowdy day spent scrambling after our grandchildren and hollering over the din to our sons and their wives didn’t materialize. My husband and I flew back to our hometown, ate a low-key lunch at Bob Evans, and then visited my soon-to-be 94 year-old mother-in-law in her assisted living facility. Reading those words were uplifting on a day that could have been inherently lonely.
Why did my children’s words mean so much?
Because I viewed my child rearing years as fraught with uncertainty and ambivalence, laced through with anxiety and worry. I wasn’t unflappable. I wasn’t even-keeled. I spent much effort trying to shape my clan into my vision of an ideal family. And I tried to control them and the events around them. And, of course, I failed
So, if you need a boost of reassurance from your off-spring, do what I did. Ask the questions you want to ask and request a hand-written response. And if there is none forthcoming in a timely manner, ask again. (If you really want to be bold or if your grown kids need additional supplementary prodding, ask them what they would say at your funeral or in a eulogy! That should light a spark.)
When the world looms too challenging and the hills appear too steep to climb and mothering still seems so damn hard, find a quiet corner and read their comments over to yourself. It will restore your sense-of-self and well-being.
I’d like to offer each of you one of my handknit pouches in which to store your kids’ comments.
The pouch is my post-Mother’s Day gift to you. All I’m asking is for you to cover the cost of shipping and handling – which is about $4. Just send me a check made out to Iris Ruth Pastor, with your name and address. I’ll send you one promptly.
PO Box 130443
Tampa FL 33681
And Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor