Growing up
I remember when I was little, my mom cross stitched a picture for me. It had my name, the meaning of my name "Wealthy One" and a scripture. I can still picture it hanging on my bedroom wall.
I grew up pretty poor. In a tiny house, in a small town. A monthly trip to Taco Mayo was a splurge to us. We ate a lot of beans, tators, and cornbread. Through it all, I always felt so lucky. I had the greatest mom in the whole world.
My mom was always my homeroom teacher at school. All the boys were in love with her and all the girls wished she was their mom. I may not have had the nicest shoes but what I had was better, i had the perfect mom.
A lot of times, my friends came to see my mom instead of me. She was so easy to talk to and she always had the most comforting advice. She used to babysit kids, one girl used to get mad at my mom and accuse her of "loving Jessica more than me!". That was MY mom. I was proud.
My sister and I used to fight over who got to tell mom about our day first. We'd yell "I get to talk to mom first!" and we'd race home. She'd be waiting for us, often times with a snack ready like crackers with peanut butter. I always felt like she was just excited to see us and hear about our day as we were to see her.
I felt so wealthy having something that no amount of money could buy. I had the perfect mother.
Living away from my family because of the army has always been tough, but it had its perks too. I got to stay at my mom's house, sometimes for weeks, when visiting oklahoma. I used to love waking up to the smell of bacon. I'd sit at the bar in my mom's kitchen. Usually it would just be her and I for a few hours.
One morning I remember telling her how lucky I felt for having the childhood I had. I told her that what my dad lacked as a father, she more than made up for as a mom. I remember her face, she looked genuinely surprised to hear that. It surprised me that it surprised her! I remember laughing and saying "How do you not know that???"
I guess she thought that since we grew up so poor, and that my dad was, well my dad, that we had a bad childhood. I told her we grew up in a horrible neighborhood and yet somehow she protected us. She not only took us to church (at times 4 times a week) but she gave us such a great moral foundation. I know not every decision I've made in my life is a testament to that, but the foundation was always there and I always came back to my roots.
I reminded her of that cross stitched picture and told her that because of her, I always felt beyond wealthy because I had her.
I'm so glad I got the opportunity to have that conversation with my mom. It was sometime during the summer of 2016.
I'm still surprised that she was surprised.
I grew up pretty poor. In a tiny house, in a small town. A monthly trip to Taco Mayo was a splurge to us. We ate a lot of beans, tators, and cornbread. Through it all, I always felt so lucky. I had the greatest mom in the whole world.
My mom was always my homeroom teacher at school. All the boys were in love with her and all the girls wished she was their mom. I may not have had the nicest shoes but what I had was better, i had the perfect mom.
A lot of times, my friends came to see my mom instead of me. She was so easy to talk to and she always had the most comforting advice. She used to babysit kids, one girl used to get mad at my mom and accuse her of "loving Jessica more than me!". That was MY mom. I was proud.
My sister and I used to fight over who got to tell mom about our day first. We'd yell "I get to talk to mom first!" and we'd race home. She'd be waiting for us, often times with a snack ready like crackers with peanut butter. I always felt like she was just excited to see us and hear about our day as we were to see her.
I felt so wealthy having something that no amount of money could buy. I had the perfect mother.
Living away from my family because of the army has always been tough, but it had its perks too. I got to stay at my mom's house, sometimes for weeks, when visiting oklahoma. I used to love waking up to the smell of bacon. I'd sit at the bar in my mom's kitchen. Usually it would just be her and I for a few hours.
One morning I remember telling her how lucky I felt for having the childhood I had. I told her that what my dad lacked as a father, she more than made up for as a mom. I remember her face, she looked genuinely surprised to hear that. It surprised me that it surprised her! I remember laughing and saying "How do you not know that???"
I guess she thought that since we grew up so poor, and that my dad was, well my dad, that we had a bad childhood. I told her we grew up in a horrible neighborhood and yet somehow she protected us. She not only took us to church (at times 4 times a week) but she gave us such a great moral foundation. I know not every decision I've made in my life is a testament to that, but the foundation was always there and I always came back to my roots.
I reminded her of that cross stitched picture and told her that because of her, I always felt beyond wealthy because I had her.
I'm so glad I got the opportunity to have that conversation with my mom. It was sometime during the summer of 2016.
I'm still surprised that she was surprised.
Comments
Post a Comment