My Moms

I've been feeling very sentimental this week as Mother's Day approaches, so I decided to write down a few of the thoughts and memories that have been on my mind this week. This is going to be a rambling post filled with memories in no particular order. These are just some thoughts I want to share about the different mothers and grandmothers in my life.

My Grandma Smith came to my every soccer game, my every band concert, my every birthday. She was there for every major life event that I can remember until she died when I was a junior in high school. She cooked for all of us every birthday dinner, and we took over the house for Christmas where we would snack on crackers and a cheese ball, and Easter when she would feed us egg salad sandwiches. She slept on the floor with us at our New Year's sleepovers at the Garden Center. And I can still see her, sitting at her kitchen table with her adding machine, punching in numbers and counting out the bills and writing the checks. Sometimes she would let us count the bills again, to double check. It felt like a privilege to be allowed to help with the deposit. I remember when I was little she would give us big cans to take outside and collect horse chestnuts in, which somehow seemed fun at the time. And lunch at her house meant a peanut butter and honey sandwich, with potato chips and strawberry milk. She's been gone for almost half my life now, but I still have dreams where I am at her house with my cousins, and I wake up missing her.

My Grandma Call spent countless hours and so much energy teaching me to play the piano. I was a poor student, and never really applied myself, but I can play a little, and I enjoy it now. When I sit down at the piano, I often think of her and all of the lessons she taught me. Especially now that Ginny wants to learn, and I find myself sharing a little bit of the things she taught me. When I was 12, she sewed a dress for me to wear for my history fair project on the pioneers. She made one for Jen and Karen, too, and we all got matching bonnets. Before I got married, she took me to JoAnn's to pick out fabric for a quilt, and then made me a beautiful quilt for my wedding. She even let me help quilt it, which is my one and only experience with quilting that way. I still have the jewelry box she gave me that she filled with dollar coins. And I am so sad that I lost the apron she gave me when I moved off to college. Erik would be shocked to learn that I actually wore an apron back in those days, largely because I felt so loved when I wore it because she gave it to me. I miss decorating cookies at her house for Halloween, and breakfast Christmas morning. I miss so many things about her.

I obviously have fewer memories of Grandma Keeley, but I am so grateful for the ones I have. Before Erik and I started dating, when we were hanging out as friends, Erik took me and a couple of other friends to her house to wait for the Hyrum fireworks. I remember she gave us all a can of Sprite, and sat and talked to us. And after Erik and I started dating, she welcomed me to her house every Sunday for dinner, and treated me like I was one of the family. When I think of Grandma Keeley, I think of Christ-like love. I feel it every time I am near her.

I never met Erik's Grandma Lindstrom, but I think she has blessed my life, too. I absolutely believe that she is aware of my family and a part of our lives. And I am grateful to her for the wonderful family she raised, who have welcomed me and Erik and our kids into their family traditions here in New York. Erik has a letter he received from her before his mission, and it is a treasure. How grateful I am for her influence.

My mother-in-law is such a blessing in my life, and I am incredibly grateful for her. The first time I met her was so awkward. I think that was mostly Erik's fault for not warning his family he was bringing me over to Grandma Keeley's. We played games (Rumikub), I think, and got to know each other a little. I told her I liked to read, and she asked me what authors I liked. When I said Robin McKinley, she said "Oh, well if you like Robin McKinley you must be okay." She and I share a love of reading, and I get some great book recommendations from her. So do my kids. A while back she sent Ginny a book called The Extra-Ordinary Princess, and when Ginny finished reading it, she gave it to me and said "Mom, you have to read this. It's the best book I've ever read!"

Even though New York City is not her favorite place to be, and even though we can't offer her great accommodations in our apartment, Lisa still comes and visits us, and stays with us during times we need help.  And she is so helpful!!! I was so grateful for the couple of weeks she spent with us after each of my babies was born, and especially after Isaac was born. I felt like I was treading water, barely staying afloat, after Isaac was born, so having her come out after my mom went home made a huge difference during that time of adjustment.

One huge, important lesson that Lisa taught me: just because I am a stay-at-home mom doesn't mean I have to be everyone else's babysitter. This may seem like a very selfish story, but there was a time in my life when even though I was feeling overwhelmed by my own kids, I felt like I was constantly being asked to watch other people's kids, too. I always felt like I had to say yes, even though it made me miserable. I just knew I would be a bad person if I said no. And then one day, Lisa told me that she chose not to babysit when her kids were young. And somehow that felt like a burden lifted to me. Lisa is such a good, faithful, righteous woman, and I realized that if she could be that woman and not babysit, maybe I could still be a good person even if I said no. I felt both wonder and relief in that moment. And that experience also taught me that I could let go of other things in my life without the burden of guilt. And I am so grateful for that.

She is such a fun grandma. My kids love spending time with her, and going on dates with her, and playing games with her. And as a mom, I have always felt supported by her. She has always treated me like I am doing a good job as a mom, even when I don't feel like I am. I am grateful for her, and I know she is an incredible mom because of the really good man she raised Erik to be.

The earliest memories I have of my mom all seem to involve doctors and needles. I remember being so scared to get blood tests, but my mom would let me sit on her lap, and then I was okay. I could hold still while my mom was holding me. I sat on my mom's lap for blood tests until I was too big for both of us to sit in that chair. I don't know how many hours my mom must have spent sitting in waiting rooms and doctor's offices and driving me to and from my doctor's appointments. She drove me to all of my appointments until I got married. (I was 23, but I hated to drive, so my mom took me even then!) I am so grateful to her for being there to make decisions about my health that I was too little to make. I know that making decisions about medicines and treatments wasn't always easy, but thanks to her, I got the help I needed.

I also remember my mom being there for me any time I needed her. As a little girl, that meant she was always at my soccer games, and school presentations, and dance recitals. She read to us from the scriptures every day, and a chapter or two from a novel every night. She still does that with my kids when we visit for the summer, and they love it! She taught us to work hard (which could not have been an easy or enjoyable thing to do), and she taught us the Gospel of Jesus Christ both by word, and by example. She is always busy helping others. She fills her life with service to her family and to her community, and blesses all of us with her love and her strength and her energy.

When I was a teenager, I spent many nights perched on the edge of her bed, telling her about whatever evening activity or date I had just gotten home from. She listened for as long as I needed to talk. She always listened when I needed to talk, whatever time of day it was. Though one time when I was being loquacious, she did say "Stop Talking! I'm out of Aspirin." She got that phrase off a key chain on my sister's backpack. And maybe I should have been offended by it, but I wasn't, because I knew that even though she teased me about how long I had been talking, talking, talking, she would still always listen to me for as long as I needed to talk. She still does. And I need to talk often!

When I was a senior in high school, I had to interview my mom for one of my classes. I don't remember what class, and I don't remember what the interview questions were, but I remember that at one point during the interview my mom told me that she was proud of the woman I had grown to be, and that she had confidence that I was prepared to move off to college and make good decisions as an adult. It meant a lot to me that she said that. When I went to college, I felt an awful lot like a little girl pretending to be a grown-up, but my mom's words helped me feel confident that I could navigate the challenges ahead of me. She still helps me feel confident, as I navigate the challenges of motherhood.

One of the most important things my mom has taught me: "Someone else's bad planning, does not, for me, a crisis make." I may have gotten the phrasing wrong. But this goes back to my story about learning to say no. Just as Lisa's story helped me with the babysitting situation, my mom also taught me that it's okay to say no. Both Lisa and my mom are women who constantly serve others, but I've learned that both of them no how to say no when they need to.

When I was sick while pregnant with Ginny, my mom came for a couple of weeks to help out. She would sit with me for hours and force me to eat oatmeal and jell-o and other things I couldn't prepare for myself without being sick. Before she came I was sick, and depressed, and scared, and lonely. But once she was there, everything was better. I knew I could get through it.

After Ginny was born, and we brought her home from the hospital, I put her in her bassinet, and looked at her, and panicked! I didn't have a clue what to do with her! (At least, that's what it felt like.) But I knew my mom would be there the next day, to stay with us for three weeks, and that thought got me through the panic. Because I knew that once my mom was there, everything would be okay. And that has always been true for me.

I love and miss and am grateful for my moms.