EVERYDAY ENCOUNTER WITH GOD
Pastor Sylvia's Enconters with God in the Midst of Everyday Life
ABOUT THE COLUMN Sylvia would love to hear your thoughts about this week's encounter. Please send them to sylvia@pastorsylvia.com |
Conversations With Mom
This week I have been
interviewing random people, asking each one the same question. “If you
could spend 30 minutes with someone who is no longer living, who would
you choose and what would you want to talk about?”
A few of my theological friends
went on tangents trying to decide if Jesus counted as deceased or not.
Then they became tongue-tied and couldn’t think of anything to actually
say to him.
However, the overwhelmingly most
popular choice was, “I want to talk to my mom.”
Whether we are birthed by her,
adopted, or gave the “Mom Role” to a woman who could be that significant
person in our life, there is no closer bond. She taught us to laugh,
dried our tears, shared our struggles, and gave us advice we later
wished we had taken. Dad may have helped with… well, dad stuff, but it
was Mom who cleaned up our messes. (My dad didn’t have the stomach for
most of them.)
My mother was smart, interesting,
well-read, and talented. You know what she wasn’t? Domestic. She loathed
cooking, cleaning, sewing, ironing, and all the household
responsibilities that women often assume in families. Did I mention she
was smart? Mom sent me to Grandma Edith who taught me the tasks of a
domestic goddess, thus freeing Mom’s time for higher pursuits like
welding, meditation, and giving advice to young women who did listen to
her.
After my mother passed away, I
realized that there were lots and lots of things I wished we had talked
about. She carried within her a treasure trove of family history that is
now lost forever. There are pieces of my childhood that I only remember
vaguely and wish I could look at now through the eyes of age and
experience.
There were times when Mom and I
hurt each other and never talked it out, never asked for forgiveness.
Now it’s too late.
Here are some of the answers I
heard during my random survey this week. “Mom” was the number one
answer.
My friend Christine said she grew
up very poor in Viet Nam. She was the sixth of ten children. One of her
brothers literally starved to death because the family didn’t have
enough food to eat. Christine wishes she could ask, “Why were you always
so happy? We were miserable. Always complaining. But you never lost your
temper and never let circumstances discourage you. Why?”
Dick, if you are reading this, I
remember you told me that you wish your mother had shared her recipe for
“Chicken Soup with Milk.” She was an amazing woman. You were an amazing
son.
My friend Barbara was in grade
school in Germany at the end of World War II when her father returned
home. “He was never the same. He came home mean. I would never have
dared ask him anything, but I wish I’d asked my mother, “What happened
to Daddy in the war? We know he deserted Hitler’s army, but what is the
rest of the story?”
And the woman in line after me at
Safeway? “I wish I could ask my Mom if she loved me. I was never really
sure. If I knew that she did, it would make all the difference in who I
am today.”
Our mothers are custodians of
family history, recipes, uncertain memories, and even our feelings about
who we are. If your mother is still living, take time to sit down and
ask her all the things you might someday wish you knew.
And above all else, don’t waste
an opportunity to say, “I love you, Mom.” |
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Sylvia and Husband John have published a new book,
BOOKS BY SYLVIA
LAURA AND ME; A Sex Offender and Victim Search Together to Understand, Forgive, and Heal
THE RED DOOR; Where Hurt and Holiness Collide
Availible at Amazon and Barns and Noble