A Mother's Daughter

Of all the people who have influenced my life, changed my course in this or that direction, the one who has steered me and shaped me the most has been my mom.  Like all children, I am who my mother made me.  Everything I love about myself, I owe to my mom.

I love that I am a very creative person.  My mom encouraged the kind of play that ignites creativity.  We didn't have a lot of money for toys, but we had Playdoh, blocks, and sandboxes.  My mom gave me materials for every kind of craft project, and she taught me how to sew when I was just a little girl.  I learned to make my own doll clothing, and later to alter my own clothes and design costumes for my kids.  I learned to see the potential in a bed-sheet, an old pair of jeans, a second-hand sweater.  I can make anything I dream up. 

I love that I am my own handy-woman.  My mom taught me to fix things.  I can put things together, and I "see" how things work.  My mom taught me to build and design.  I spent my childhood doing things like designing furniture for my dollhouse.  She taught me how to use an exact-o knife, a drill, a level, and a saw.  She made me comfortable with taking things apart, redesigning, and fixing what's broken.

I love being a book lover, journal writer, and dreamer.  My mom instilled in me a love of books, nourished from the time I was a baby.  There were times in my life growing up when we didn't have much.  But I always, always had books.  Books were my friends, my comfort.  I traveled the world in books.  I learned to walk in the shoes of others.  I learned to see through the eyes of others.  I became a life-long reader and writer, and I've passed that on to all of my own children. 

I love that I am satisfied and happy with myself and my life.  My mom always made the best of things, and by her example I learned to be content.  As a child, I didn't get everything I wanted.  I had to learn to sacrifice, compromise, make choices, and settle.  So now as an adult, I am not always wishing for the next best thing.  I love what I already have.  I have learned as an adult that contentment is a rare gift.

I love being a mom.  My mom taught me to balance the domesticity of raising young children. She taught me to cook, bake, and clean.  I learned to involve my children in the daily life of cooking, baking, and cleaning but still take time to read, sing, and play with them.  I learned what's important about family.  My mom made sure that my sisters and I grew up to be friends.  We are close because she raised us to share, help each other, and rely on each other.  Most of all, my mom taught me that even if you have a large family, each child is different and special, and that there really is enough love and attention to go around.

I wonder if my mom knows how much I appreciate all she did to raise me.  I don't think she sees the connections between my childhood and who I am now, at least not the way I do.  I wonder if she worries about all she was not able to do, and feels she let me down.

I think that every mother carries around her own secrets and regrets, but mostly they are small compared to all she did that was wonderful.  I have my regrets too.  I can only hope that when they are grown, my children will love me for all that I did right, the way that I love my mom.