I grew up believing that everyone had a roast with baked potatoes and a vegetable and rolls and coconut custard pie on Sunday. I couldn't imagine a world outside my own; I had no need or desire to. Such was my comfortable and sheltered childhood.
After an hour of Sunday school in a drafty Methodist church, we were home on Sundays; dad read the paper until the various sections covered the entire floor. Wide World of Sports warmed the TV in the background. My sister was somewhere in the house. The dog was sprawled on the landing (God help you if you were in a hurry up to the bathroom; she wasn't moving for you.) And mom was doing her thing with the dinner. Because we were home, she had an early start on the stuff that took a while to cook. And she cooked it and did the crossword or crocheted or folded laundry or whatever she wanted. It was Sunday.
As the years rolled by and the odd boy (they were definitely odd) would visit on a Sunday, mom led them in and led them out. If they came a different day, mom led them in and led them out. If we needed something to wear to go out with one of these beings, mom took care of that too. Something happening at school? There was mom. Getting married? There was mom. Need to mend, patch, or plug something? Call mom. Hard-boiling an egg? Mom... A baby? Mom.
Need to get home after a day with dad photographing graffiti? There's mom on the cell phone to remind us that duty calls. Need safety, sanity, and stability? Get mom.
The other day I was talking to a woman who asked me what I "did." Nowadays this question has nothing to do with being a mom, which is a sideshow to what many consider meaningful, money-making work. i hate that question and usually walk away from it.
The circumstances of the day precluded my walking away, and I told her how I earned cash. "Oh, good. It's important to have something for yourself that's just yours."
Blind greed, your name is Me, Myself, and-I-am-the-Universe.
Thanks to my mother and all those Sunday dinners she made, what I "do" is not a me thing but a mom thing.
Blog Your Blessings
After an hour of Sunday school in a drafty Methodist church, we were home on Sundays; dad read the paper until the various sections covered the entire floor. Wide World of Sports warmed the TV in the background. My sister was somewhere in the house. The dog was sprawled on the landing (God help you if you were in a hurry up to the bathroom; she wasn't moving for you.) And mom was doing her thing with the dinner. Because we were home, she had an early start on the stuff that took a while to cook. And she cooked it and did the crossword or crocheted or folded laundry or whatever she wanted. It was Sunday.
As the years rolled by and the odd boy (they were definitely odd) would visit on a Sunday, mom led them in and led them out. If they came a different day, mom led them in and led them out. If we needed something to wear to go out with one of these beings, mom took care of that too. Something happening at school? There was mom. Getting married? There was mom. Need to mend, patch, or plug something? Call mom. Hard-boiling an egg? Mom... A baby? Mom.
Need to get home after a day with dad photographing graffiti? There's mom on the cell phone to remind us that duty calls. Need safety, sanity, and stability? Get mom.
The other day I was talking to a woman who asked me what I "did." Nowadays this question has nothing to do with being a mom, which is a sideshow to what many consider meaningful, money-making work. i hate that question and usually walk away from it.
The circumstances of the day precluded my walking away, and I told her how I earned cash. "Oh, good. It's important to have something for yourself that's just yours."
Blind greed, your name is Me, Myself, and-I-am-the-Universe.
Thanks to my mother and all those Sunday dinners she made, what I "do" is not a me thing but a mom thing.
Blog Your Blessings
21 Comments
Sandy when you post a permalink tell me how you get it do it. I know how to copy the link but how do you get it to link from comment section?Line of One deep breath?Thanks for your help.
ReplyDeleteGreat post!
ReplyDeleteTimes have changed a lot and the bonds that bind a family together have considerably weakened, but they exist and will always exist in one form or another.
Have a great week ahead!
Yolanda,
ReplyDeleteThe permalink explanation is on the One Deep Breath site (in case you need it when you're posting there). Basically, you type [a href="http://..."]Title[/a]. Just replace these brackets with the carats. There is a single space between the a and the href. Between quotation marks goes the url of the post. I hope that helps.
Yes, Mothers are blessings indeed. Mine died a week after her 80th birthday and i sure miss her.
ReplyDeleteHappy BYB Sunday!
What an abolutely wonderful post!
ReplyDeleteHow often we don't realise how much mothers (and family in general) contribute to our lives... Again, you've written a post that begs a phone call to my mom just to say "Hello and thanks again for EVERYTHING!"
ReplyDeleteHappy BYB Sunday, and have a great week ahead!! Your Mom sounds wonderful!!!!
ReplyDeleteMoms rule!
ReplyDeleteWe always had ricotta pie on Sundays. My mom's "secret recipe" is a family favorite to this day.
Sounds like your mother has been a great blessing in your life.
ReplyDeleteWhile I can understand your friend's insight about it's good to have something of your own our society, how do you figure out what the value of knowing that Sunday dinner will be ready? How much is knowing that you can call someone and that they will listen worth?
I so love this post, I wish I had those Sundays, but I remember some like that when we visited with Grandma. Yeah, what I do is a MOM thing always.
ReplyDeleteThe Mama Bear
very simple, touching, and dareisay one of the best blessing posts ever read
ReplyDeletesundays are special to me too in a different yet similar sorta way
its a nice kinda feeling.
Lovely tribute to your Mom and Mom's everywhere and to the blessings of Mom's in our lives!
ReplyDeleteGreat post! I love being the "MOM". My children too have the need met and the safety of having a "Mother" full time to love them. I am so grateful that I have this privilege
ReplyDeleteAn especially poignant post for me to read at the moment.
ReplyDeleteI have a fridge magnet from my children form many years ago which reads *mums are angels in training*.
Mums are the greatest blessing along with dads of course :)
Happy BYB Sunday
I have similar memories of Sunday dinner except we always (and I mean always) had fried chicken. And every Sunday evening, while watching Bonanza we had vanilla ice cream. Great post. And, I would like to tag you for TAGGED for 6. Please visit my blog to get the rules to pass the tag along. Blessings, Cricket
ReplyDeleteSorry I got pulled away. TAGGED for 6 is now up. Thanks for the quick response. Blessings, Cricket
ReplyDeletei really am so touched with this post Sandy. I had that realization too of how unaware i am about the pain of the world having such a protected childhood. it was a simple life but full of love.
ReplyDeleteim inspired to count and post my life's blessinsg too
That is a very nice post. Thank you. Love Mom
ReplyDeleteYour Mom was expert at integrating everything in the household, and making it all work. Her influence even enabled your Dad to immerse himself in the newspaper.
ReplyDeleteAnd now you do it, too! How neat!
Hey,
ReplyDeleteAre you the Sandy from around 25 years ago that I knew and you worked in a bookstore in Danbury?
Oh, and Sundays in my house were pretty similar, Dad in the living room burning things in the fireplace, Mom cooking, me and my brother watching Abbott and Costello, and my sister sitting with a cat or two on her lap. Family life. And I also enjoyed your little story. The value of Moms is the same but they are underappreciated!
I always think being a Mum is one of the hardest jobs in the world Sandy. It takes so much love and patience. My Mum's 77 this year and is a great blessing in my life. Sounds like your Mum is too.
ReplyDeleteThanks for being here.