Mumsy by our pool in Raymore |
{Random sidenote: a few weeks ago, I had my phone on the car dock while driving and somehow it decided it was going to read incoming text messages to me. My husband responded to my most recent message (sent before driving, by the way) with "Kk" and it sounded like it was clearing its throat. It was hilarious! "Message from Husband: (gagging sound). Say 'repeat' to repeat." Of COURSE I repeated it. Half a dozen times. "(gagging sound)" "Repeat!" "(gagging sound)" "Repeat!"...}
I just got off the phone with her and was thinking about how I needed to write this post. Part of the trouble I've had is deciding where to begin on the posts about each of my parents. There's just so much to say, and it's so personal, and important, and heart-felt. How do you begin to say all that a parent really means? Where do I start? Childhood? Now? Parenting? Friendship? What aspect do I feature first, and how do I begin to cover all that I mean to say?
All that, and a snappy dress-er, too! |
I may have mentioned previously that when I got married last year, I had high expectations of myself. Part of the reason for that is due to the fact that this beautiful lady has shown me all my life that it's possible to have an organized, clean home, deliberate relationships, be calm, cool, and collected, yet warm, open, and inviting, and look good doing it. Let's just say that I found out that takes practice. Lots, and lots, and lots, and LOTS of practice. I'm getting there, little by little, and she's my own personal cheerleading squad, encouraging from the sidelines, handing out compliments, encouragement, and even the occasional (much-needed, usually) kick in the pants. *Smile*
Momma visiting me for my birthday, my semester in Europe. Zurich, CH airport. |
No wonder no one has anything bad to say about her! What mean thing can you say about someone whose whole mission in life is always to be a little kinder to everyone around them?
"I have wept through the nightFor the shortness of sightThat to somebody's need made me blind,But I never have yetFelt a twinge of regretFor being a little too kind."
There was this one time that she was trying to get us to read this book ("Enthusiasm Makes the Difference," by Norman Vincent Peale) together as a family. I don't remember where she got it, or why she wanted to read it to us, but it, for whatever reason, wasn't something we wanted to read. I still remember the little cheerleading cheer she used to do around the house, trying to get us excited to read this book. I also still remember some of the places we used to hide that book from her. :) When I called her to ask if that was the right book, she said, "Yes, why? Would you like me to send it to you?"And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. ~Ephesians 4:32, NKJV~
Mumsy, my sister, and I were bridesmaids in my sister's wedding. August 2005 |
So I was telling Mumsy about this book that I had just finished, and how excellent I thought it was. I sat there and read her a few of the parts I had underlined, over the phone, and then told her how well I felt it fit in with how she had taught me to order my homemaking to-do items.
I'll probably write a whole post on this later, but when I was in elementary school, Mumsy taught me to keep track of the things I need to get done, using an index card file. I'm naturally a "creative" type individual. (Yes, in quotation marks.) In other words, I don't naturally fall on the organized-and-squared-away side of things. That doesn't mean that I don't have order around me, just that my version of "order" may not appear orderly to any outside observer.
I, like my father, tend to live in piles. They drive me bonkers, but that's my tendency. My mother, on the other hand, lives by lists. She's a very squared away individual, but she's so warm that it's not a condescending form of order. (My mind goes to Martha Stewart, here.) When I got married, she (Mumsy, not Martha) spent a whole day with me helping me prepare and organize a new index card file, because I asked her to. I knew that if she could do it so well for so many years, that she could help me do it, too. She did.
Correspondent Extraordinaire! |
I have no idea how much she spends on postage and cards each year, but I'm betting it's its own line item in my parents' budget. She taught me her secrets to that, too. Now, my husband's side of the family are surprised to have begun receiving mementos and cards as times and seasons pass. It's something he says I do well. I know better. It's something I wouldn't think to do at all, but my Mumsy taught me to make others in my life a priority.
So, the woman who has told me regularly for the last however many years that I'm her hero, is really mine. If the subject has ever come up in conversation, you've probably heard me say, "I hope that someday I can be half the woman that my mom is." And it's true. She's the truest of friends, the noblest of mothers, the most honorable of women, the most steadfast of prayer warriors, and the humblest of Christ-followers. When I look at her, I see all I want to be, the goodness, the honesty, the love, the kindness, the faithfulness, the (yes) enthusiasm, the organization, the intentionality, the awareness, the loyalty, the humor, the delight, the dignity, the hilarity, the joy... The list goes on and on. This is the woman I am blessed, beyond belief, to call my Mumsy. My Best Friend.
Much love,
2tz~
Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things. The things which you learned and received and heard and saw in me, these do, and the God of peace will be with you.
~Philippians 4:8-9, NKJV, Mumsy's favorite passage~
No comments:
Post a Comment