My mom was born to loving, devout, strict German Catholic parents. She was one of twelve children, number four down the line. The guy who wrote the birth order book would have his mind blown trying to say where each of the twelve fit in the rankings he created. My mother had the misfortune of immediately following my super genius uncle and while she always got good grades, they were not as good as his. Don't think too poorly of my grandparents, this was a time where children were sat in the corner with dunce hats on in school as well.
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| given the awkwardness, I would put her age 12 here |
My mom got good grades, graduated and went off to work a variety of crappy full time jobs because my grandfather did not believe women needed a higher education. Ouch. She met and married my dad and had my sisters quickly after and settled into being a policeman's wife. My brother and I followed and after awhile she went back to work, working a variety of crappy jobs because by this time you needed a college degree to get good ones. But my mother is nothing if not persistent and she found her niche in commercial real estate appraisal and did well.
The older and more hormonal my children get, the more I realize what an amazing mother my mom is. The venomous looks my daughter gives me now makes me want to call my mom and apologize for my miserable teenage self. She raised the four of us pretty much on her own as my dad worked a lot of nights and third shifts. She carted us to various sports practices, plays, band and anything else we were in and she was at almost all of our games, our concerts and events. We did well in school because she knew we could and it was important to her that we go to college. I am an excellent speller because she made me look up words in the dictionary rather than telling me how to spell them. Her inability to go to college really left an ugly wound in my mom's psyche and she raised her girls to think and know that they could do anything. The world was as much theirs as it was their brother's.
My mom is an excellent baker and she made sure we all knew how to bake. We did not have a lot of money and the good food (junk food) ran out quickly with four kids, but somehow there were always enough ingredients to put together to make a cake or cookies or something sweet. My mom is also a good cook...when she follows the recipes and doesn't wing it or add things in she has lying around. Ask me about the hot dogs, potatoes and peas....or, God help me, hamburger pie.
My mom is a do-er. If something needs to be done, she is your woman. Need a pancake breakfast organized? Mary will do it. Need a dozen cookies for a bake sale? She will make you two dozen. Need an arm or a leg? She has two and she will gladly give you one. Even pure exhaustion from caring for my dad going through chemo didn't stop her from taking care of others. We spent two hours chasing down a wheelchair for a sick friend who needed it. That is my mom. Do and help and go until you just can't anymore. I have had to tell her to stop being a Martha and to just be Mary: to take care of herself, to say no every now and then.
She is an excellent Grammie and delights in her grandchildren. She throws them Cheeto parties and lets them paint walls in the basement and make it a clubhouse.
She taught us all how to value family, how to be a part of our community, how to work hard and achieve our goals. We are confident, mouthy and driven because of her. We love our kids and expect good things from them because of her. We are opinionated, purposeful and busy because of her. I am so grateful for my mom, so proud to be her daughter. I know how much you value college Mom, but I learned more from you about the world than I ever did there. Now on your birthday, go be Mary - not Martha.
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