With mother’s day just around the corner, I thought this weeks post should reflect a bit about just that.
Having been a bit under the weather a week ago, I couldn’t help but think about not ever remembering my mother being sick. If she was, we never knew it. She never called in sick to work (she was a full-time Mom), no one was going to fill her shoes, never mind even know where or how to begin to do that. Perhaps it is that mindset that gets us Moms on our feet a bit faster than most. No one can really do what we do. Besides my kids, I still had chores to do, goats to milk, meals to put on the table and cheese to culture. There was no time to really be sick, however, a few more naps were had in between tasks.
My mom passed away ten years ago, but I still find myself now and again thinking back and laughing at some of the things she did; better yet things we did to her. I now understand why they say kids give their parents gray hairs. With ten of us kids, I don’t ever remember my parents with anything but gray hair.
In the spirit of Mothers Day, a story.
My mother was very squeamish when it came to things like worms, snakes, things that crawled around in the grass. On one occasion, we were gathering bales of hay out of a field, tossing them onto a trailer that was being pulled by a pick up truck that my mother was driving. As the trailer gets three rows high of hay, some of us would move to the top to pull the hay up higher so as to fill the load. On this one occasion my brother and I found a dead snake that had been baled into the hay and came up with the bright idea of climbing down the side of the wagon and draping the dead snake down alongside the windshield in front of my mother. Needless to say, this didn’t end well. One of us ended up on the ground in front of the truck while the other was left hanging off the side of the wagon as my mother slammed on the breaks and let out an ungodly scream. Loud enough for my father to hear 100 feet ahead of us on another tractor; bringing him to a halt as well. Looking back at that situation, all I can say is “I am sooooo sorry” That had to have given her at least 100 gray hairs right there and for the record, it was my brother Davids idea.
With that said, I think everyone needs to say sorry to their moms this weekend.
None of us deserve to go gray before 70.