When I was a young boy, I loved the warm solace of my mother’s lap. In the times of loneliness brought on by the heartbreak of youth, here was where I felt the most comforted. My mom has always been there for me. Not just in the way that parents are suppose to be there --roof over your head, food on your plate and such. She’s been that consistent influence on me to be the best version of myself. Even when I failed she accepted me for who I was, and what I did or didn’t accomplish. For all sons are imperfect in reality…just don’t tell their mothers for they will never believe you. Well my mother never suggested it… That kind of unconditional love is the truest thing in this world.
My childhood was good. For most of it we lived in the small town of Martinsburg, West Virginia. It was me, my sister, and my mom living in a small house on a busy road, on an old block where houses and businesses intermingled. We didn’t have a lot but I never realized it. Mom pursued one of eventually two masters-degrees while we were living there. I know this was something she valued, yet had to consider the means and time it would take while we were young. My mom gave us every chance to do what we wanted to do whether it was basketball, or learning karate. With one catch—we had to finish what we started. No matter how much we hated it, we couldn’t quit. As a child I was not a fan of this rule, but as a man I believe it taught me some very important lessons. First, I need to consider what I want before I make a decision. I need to truly understand the nature of the commitment. Then it taught me that quitting is a temporary gratification. Finishing what I started is a true accomplishment, and that the integrity is in resolve.
Parents have to sacrifice. Change comes in many forms when you have children. Your spending, sleep, and social habits all must be altered to accommodate the presence of children. I know that I was thankful as a child, but your perception is narrow as a kid. I don’t think this really expands until you have kids of your own. My mom sacrificed so much for us so we could be happy, and well rounded individuals. One of my purest hopes is that she feels that we have become the adults she had imagined us to be.
One of my clearest memories as a child was Christmas morning when I was probably eight, my sister six. We woke up like every kid in the world, with the wily anticipation of what was under the tree. We went running into mom’s bedroom to see if she was awake. She was still in bed, and very sick. The discomfort of her sickness prevented her from getting much sleep and when she answered our question, “Can we go ahead and open our presents?” She said, “Yes”. At least that’s how I remember it. In the confusion of Christmas morning elation we didn’t understand why she was so mad at us. It’s funny how I know how this must have felt to her then as starkly as if I was there watching from the back of the room like Scrooge on his journey with the Spirit of Christmas Past. Children don’t have the capacity to understand the love of parents. They love because they just do. Kids can’t really put it into words because it’s indescribable. It’s just a feeling.
My most lonely moment was about ten years later, while I was in college. I had received a full-athletic scholarship, and was finally able to help support myself and my education. I know my mom was as proud of me as any mother could be at this point of my life. In the end, I wasn’t able to meet the commitment that I had made to the school, my coaches, myself. I was deeply shamed, and felt alone in my decision. When my mom came down to pick me up and take me back home, I didn’t even want to talk about it. I didn’t know how she would accept my decision. I know that she didn’t want me to quit. What happened wasn’t unexpected, more reassuring than anything. Even in her disappointment she made me feel loved.
Now I am trying to do what I couldn’t as a kid. Mom thank you for all the sacrifices you made for us. Thanks for never letting me be a coward, and teaching me that with confidence I can move forward without concern of not having a soft place to land. You taught me the virtues of what it means to be a good person. That trust was really the only commodity we were born with that money can’t buy back. Most importantly you always taught me to think on my own, and not to just accept what I was told as fact without using my discernment.
In my childhood I was emboldened by the love of my mother as being handsome, intelligent, and strong. I never believed all of these things wholeheartedly, and to this day I’m not so sure they are all true. What matters is that even in my overwrought credulity I was loved, and I am who I am today because of it. I hope you had a Happy Mother’s Day, and I wish I could’ve been there for it. Thanks Mom.
