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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Biographical · #1524748
Lessons Learned from Mom
“Lessons from Mom” ©2008

When I initially thought about writing for this contest, I was undecided as to a subject matter. The parameters were easy enough in the sense that all contestants were told that they could write anything about their mother. Whether it’s humorous, witty, or heartwarming all genres were to be accepted. When contemplating the options of a subject matter, it didn’t take me long to realize that, although I had hundreds of real to life options that would more than qualify, there’s only one that would do in my attempt to immortalize my mother to the world.

When talking about our mothers, there are definite similarities but also several differences. I’m certain that most everyone’s mother was there when we needed our midnight feedings, left for that first day of kindergarten, and even scrapped our knees when we were trying to learn how to ride a bicycle. For most of us, they were there when we had that first little crush on the girl in gym class and when we suffered our first broken heart. Mothers are unique in that they did what they could for us as we started life and worked our way into adulthood and into parenthood ourselves.

If I had to name a single thing that I’ve taken along with me when I moved into parenthood it would have to be lessons. This has to do with allot more than a simply tip, hint, or suggestion... This is a multitude of things that I don’t believe I could have learned from any other person. “Lessons from Mom” are those special times that helped all of us to become who we are.

Growing up, I can remember thinking that “Mom knows everything”. As a small boy growing up in Southern Louisiana, that’s what I knew to be the truth. Whether I was reading book after book and imagining that I was a superhero saving the world, a pirate waiting to plunder my next village, or even imagining that I was James Tiberius Kirk saving the Universe and bringing honor to the Space Federation uniform; Mom was always there to lend a helping hand. Sometimes that helping hand was an afternoon cookie but sometimes it wasn’t. Growing up with two siblings, there were plenty of times when the helping hand was wrapped tightly around a belt like the time I was five years old and thought I was Tarzan the Ape Man saving Maureen O’Sullivan from a tribe of cannibals.

Yup you guessed it; she caught me swinging from anything and everything in the living room. But in my defense Jane was my “woman” and I had to throw the coconuts from the jungle tree tops while swinging from the vines. Of course her opinion greatly differed from mine. What I called coconuts, she lovingly referred to as collector “nick knacks” and let’s not even talk about the curtains that I ripped off of the windows. Now for a five year old to describe the “Wrath of Mom” (not to be confused w/ “The Wrath of Khan” but not far from it); I would have probably told everyone that I was beaten to within an inch of my life. But sitting here as a thirty-eight year old man, I can’t exactly say that without smiling a bit at how a person’s perception of things of the yesteryears changes with maturity.

Not long after the “Tarzan Incident”, my parents were divorced and I lived with my mother until I was thirteen years old. But of course those were the years where I was still under the impression that “Mom knows everything”. Like most single parents in the world, my mom held several jobs. Even though there were several times during this period where she held two jobs at a time, she always found time to help with homework. At the time we lived in a very small mobile home.

I can remember when I was nine years old waking up at night when she would come in from one of her jobs as a cashier at a local convenience store. For several nights, I would simply lay in bed listening to her as she navigated the small dark mobile home. It was a ritual she had and as time passed I knew it as well as she did. She would come into the room that my older brother, of only 23 months, and I shared and adjusted our blankets before lightly kissing us on the forehead. I could only assume that she did the same with our baby sister. She was 4 years my junior. I would hear mom taking a shower in the back of the trailer and then I would hear her shuffling around the kitchen area. I would then see a small lamp light up in the tiny kitchen area where I later found out that she would sit there in the quiet and read a book. Knowing that mom was back home with us, I would eventually fall back to sleep.

I told you this story because it would develop into one of the finest memories that I have of my mother during my childhood. As time went on I eventually, worked up the courage to get up and go meet her while she was reading. No make no mistake; I wasn’t afraid of my mother by any means. And despite the “lashing” I received when I “thought” I was Tarzan the Ape Man, she wasn’t an abusive parent.

When I went up to the small table where my mother was enjoying a cold cut sandwich and reading her novel, she was naturally surprised that I was awake. Although she was surprised to see me up at such a late hour, she wasn’t as upset as I thought she would have been. Let’s be honest here… I did have school the next morning. These late nights eventually turned into a regular event and we spent what felt like hours just talking about everything from my school to her work and everything in between. For the first time in my life I felt extremely close to my mother.

Without even knowing it, she taught me a lot on those late nights about being a parent.

As a teenager my opinion about mom changed considerably. Like most teenagers in the world, I was under the impression that parents knew nothing about the world or raising children. I moved into my father’s house when I was thirteen years old due to a series of unfortunate events between my step father and me. My mom now lived approximately thirty miles or so away and I didn’t see her very often. I called from time to time and she called me from time to time but we seemed to have drifted apart. Due greatly to the “Series of unfortunate events” between my step father and I, My perception of her parenting skills shifted from “Mom Knows Everything” straight to “Mom Knows Nothing” about parenting or much else for that matter.

As Time passed I would eventually become an adult and would father children of my own. At the age of 25, I found myself in the same situation that my mother was in as a single parent. I was now a single parent of a four year old daughter and a one year old son. Although I had the help of a significant other (whom I later married), I knew first hand what it was like to answer the questions of a lonely child from the view point of a parent.

As time moved on, I accepted a job offer with the Sheriff’s Department where my mother lived. She was more excited than I thought she would have been and it was a pleasant surprise to say the least. As my job progressed and I advanced to the role of a Commander within the Department, I could see the pride in her eyes when I showed up to visit while on duty. It literally amazed me how much she enjoyed touching the little colored ribbons I wore representing the various Awards of Valor, Commendations, and Life Saving Achievements that I had earned. It wasn’t long after that she and I had “reconnected” and began to re-build our relationship. As time passed I would make regular visits and we would talk like we had on those late nights. Here I was the Captain of one of the largest Patrol Divisions of any Sheriff’s Department in the State of Louisiana; responsible for the lives of over 125 officers; overseeing a multi-million dollar annual budget; yet I felt like that nine year old boy from years past. It was by far one of the best feelings I had ever experienced.

Our relationship is still somewhat recovering but over the years I’ve come to realize one all-important detail about parents. Small children think that their parents know everything. As that child grows into their teenage years their impression is that their parents don’t know anything. Sitting here as an adult, I realized that the impression I had of my mom’s abilities for parenting when I was a child had been correct all along… She does know everything. Therein lays a small portion of the “Lessons from Mom” that I have retained from my childhood.


***Author's Note***
This was written for a Mothers Day Writing contest in 2008 sponsored by BuzzRadioLive.net
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© Copyright 2009 AJ Garrett (aj_garrett at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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