Taken for Granted. {Mom, it's a good thing.}
I’ve only been a mom for sixteen years. I lived with my parents longer than Julia has called me “Mom”. I don’t know much, do I? My mom had been a momma for 49 years before we lost her. I really don’t know anything at all. I needed a little perspective this Mother’s Day morning before I attempted to write anything on the beautiful, conflicting, wondrous, all-encompassing, heart-bursting and heart-breaking subject of motherhood.
My momma was here with us in Texas last Mother’s Day. It was a great weekend— eating out, playing cards, ballet recital, chocolate covered strawberries from Blake, reservations at Grace and pictures we took that I will treasure forever. I got to have her here many Mother’s Days because Julia’s ballet recital always fell on this weekend. I think it was for the ballet and the fact there are better places to eat out on Mother’s Day here than in Soperton. {KIDDING}. We just had no idea that we were in our last couple of months of having her here. No idea.
A month or two after she was gone, I took a two night retreat to get some thoughts down, to grieve freely if I didn’t feel I had been able to— and I cannot tell you how grateful I am that I retreated. A book I read was loaded with questions to process, to answer. And that, I can do and that, I did. I typed and typed and typed. I haven’t WANTED to go back and read any of it yet— too heavy… too something but I am glad it’s all there. This morning I did go back and scan to find this one.
This question that I didn’t think I could answer when I read it the first time actually came pretty easily as I began to type. “Who was I with my mom that I couldn't be with anyone else?”
Simple answer but a very special one. I was her daughter. I'll never be that to another person. It's a unique relationship — unique in every way. I was her ONLY daughter. I wonder what it would have been like to have a sister— to share the role of being a daughter. But I didn't share the role. I was the only one. And that's significant. Daughters enjoy special freedoms— and privileges— with their moms. I said things to my mom that I wouldn't say to anyone else— called her at times you wouldn't call anyone else. Moms are taken for granted — sometimes in a disrespectful way but sometimes in a familiar, familial way……which is beautiful and special—there's the freedom and the privilege. To take advantage of someone because you are so secure and sure of their love for you. That's a momma. Mom wasn't a perfect mom but she was a good one. She singled me out many times— giving me "extra" things no one knew about. She didn't come out and say it but I knew it was because….. I was her daughter— and of course that made me special. Again— it's a unique relationship that you don't enjoy with anyone else.
My answer is not profound in any way but the statement that stands out to me is “Moms are taken for granted”. Sure, this holds mostly a negative connotation but if you are a momma, you can pull the positivity out of this and see it for the treasure it is. In good relationships, there is such a foundational undercurrent of love and commitment under and around your daughter or son, they would never, ever doubt your love or your availability or your willingness to be interrupted or your constant prayers or your willingness to do anything necessary for their best. Hopefully, to them, it’s just WHO WE ARE…absolutely taken for granted because we are their mom and they are so sure of our fierce love for them. We want them to LIVE out of that security that’s rooted so deeply in God’s love for them and us.
For sure, I took my mom for granted. However, it’s a little bittersweet on this side of things. I am beyond thankful for the love I know my mom had for me. I never thought twice about calling, texting, asking, needing, even wanting….. until she was gone. The finality of it all still sucker punches my heart from time to time. How I hope she knew my “taking her for granted” was one of the highest compliments she could ever be paid. I knew. I KNEW. I enjoyed a wonderful thing.
For 47 years, I was her daughter and she was my momma. Deeply grateful this morning.
My momma was here with us in Texas last Mother’s Day. It was a great weekend— eating out, playing cards, ballet recital, chocolate covered strawberries from Blake, reservations at Grace and pictures we took that I will treasure forever. I got to have her here many Mother’s Days because Julia’s ballet recital always fell on this weekend. I think it was for the ballet and the fact there are better places to eat out on Mother’s Day here than in Soperton. {KIDDING}. We just had no idea that we were in our last couple of months of having her here. No idea.
A month or two after she was gone, I took a two night retreat to get some thoughts down, to grieve freely if I didn’t feel I had been able to— and I cannot tell you how grateful I am that I retreated. A book I read was loaded with questions to process, to answer. And that, I can do and that, I did. I typed and typed and typed. I haven’t WANTED to go back and read any of it yet— too heavy… too something but I am glad it’s all there. This morning I did go back and scan to find this one.
This question that I didn’t think I could answer when I read it the first time actually came pretty easily as I began to type. “Who was I with my mom that I couldn't be with anyone else?”
Simple answer but a very special one. I was her daughter. I'll never be that to another person. It's a unique relationship — unique in every way. I was her ONLY daughter. I wonder what it would have been like to have a sister— to share the role of being a daughter. But I didn't share the role. I was the only one. And that's significant. Daughters enjoy special freedoms— and privileges— with their moms. I said things to my mom that I wouldn't say to anyone else— called her at times you wouldn't call anyone else. Moms are taken for granted — sometimes in a disrespectful way but sometimes in a familiar, familial way……which is beautiful and special—there's the freedom and the privilege. To take advantage of someone because you are so secure and sure of their love for you. That's a momma. Mom wasn't a perfect mom but she was a good one. She singled me out many times— giving me "extra" things no one knew about. She didn't come out and say it but I knew it was because….. I was her daughter— and of course that made me special. Again— it's a unique relationship that you don't enjoy with anyone else.
My answer is not profound in any way but the statement that stands out to me is “Moms are taken for granted”. Sure, this holds mostly a negative connotation but if you are a momma, you can pull the positivity out of this and see it for the treasure it is. In good relationships, there is such a foundational undercurrent of love and commitment under and around your daughter or son, they would never, ever doubt your love or your availability or your willingness to be interrupted or your constant prayers or your willingness to do anything necessary for their best. Hopefully, to them, it’s just WHO WE ARE…absolutely taken for granted because we are their mom and they are so sure of our fierce love for them. We want them to LIVE out of that security that’s rooted so deeply in God’s love for them and us.
For sure, I took my mom for granted. However, it’s a little bittersweet on this side of things. I am beyond thankful for the love I know my mom had for me. I never thought twice about calling, texting, asking, needing, even wanting….. until she was gone. The finality of it all still sucker punches my heart from time to time. How I hope she knew my “taking her for granted” was one of the highest compliments she could ever be paid. I knew. I KNEW. I enjoyed a wonderful thing.
For 47 years, I was her daughter and she was my momma. Deeply grateful this morning.
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