Sunday, May 24, 2009

Mainly...

I wrote this for Mother's Day, and now that my mom is back from SC, I'm done with AP Chem, and it's Sunday, I decided to post it!

They told her she would never be a mother. Married at 17, that had been her greatest dream. She was passionate about babies, adored children, and wanted her own with all that she was. Like Hannah, she longed for them prayed for them, waited for them. Finally, at 23, she had a baby. Yes, he was born premature. Yes, he was on a ventilator, no, his lungs didn’t work, and yes, he was airlifted from the hospital. But he lived. Through asthma, diabetes, and, eventually, seminary. But she wanted more. Six years and a miscarriage later, she was pregnant again. This time she was on bed rest for 5 months, was medicated until she couldn‘t even read in bed, and had a C-section. But 4 years later she had another C-section. And 3 years later another. Three years after that she had another. As the doctor cut through her scars, he told her this had better be the last time, if she wanted to live. She began researching adoption. When it became apparent that that would not happen, and her baby was 6, she couldn‘t believe it. But she was a mother. Five times over, and she was crazy for her children. Having taken the oldest out of school, because he was bullied, unable to read, and she missed him, she started home schooling. As a teaching mother, she flourished. At first it was in major schoolwork; reading, writing papers, history timelines, science fieldtrips, math… As they all got older it got harder, but she persevered. Co-op classes for speech, video supplements for algebra, geometry, and trigonometry, even a class of AP chemistry at the local high school for the labs, college credit, and “to see what we’ve been missing”. (Answer: not much!) She taught them what she knew and got someone else to teach what she didn’t. She followed their passions, pushing them to go for what they only dared dream of.
She just drove over 1,500 miles in 2 days to be with her son as he graduates from seminary. Grand Champion artist at the fair many times, a gifted musician, and an amazing preacher, he got to where he is only because she wouldn’t let him quit. She has always been there for him, willing him to breathe, teaching him to read, and talking to him for hours to keep him in school when nothing was going right.
Her second born bought a horse when she was 13, became a ski instructor when she was 14, and an airplane pilot at the age of 17. Heading for (maybe?) medical school, she knows it’s ok to dream big, step out, and go for whatever God has place on your heart- things happen that way. She could have been content to sit and let things happen however they would, but she was pushed and pulled to take hold of the amazing and do what she dreamed of, even if it was something her mother would never have thought of doing.
The third is on his way to South Dakota for a hunting trip with his grandfather. He finished his math-book, a section and a box of shells at a time. His butterfly collection, pet chickens, and banjo-playing addiction were all made possible by her. He wants to start a band and record a cd in the near future, all because she insisted he learn an instrument and bought him the nicest Deering banjo there was. Others said it was foolish, but it inspired him, and now he is teaching himself guitar and mandolin.
Numbers four and five went on the 1,500 mile trip (which says things about her stamina!) and if they know anything, they know she thinks they’re special. The youngest boy plays the mandolin, rides his dirt bike, and recently decided that math was do-able, just a terrible waste of time. His latest accomplishment was figuring out how to ride a unicycle and shoot baskets at the same time. They were just talking about it together and realized he hadn’t even wanted the unicycle, but she said someday he’d like it. The baby takes her job seriously and is taking as long as she can to grow up. She loves snuggle time with mom and is already crazy for chocolate, coffee, - and babies!
This is my mother. She’s kept our family together ever since she started it with her prayers. We’ve spent hours upon hours reading, studying, and memorizing the Bible together. We know she’s real; we’ve seen her fall. But then we’ve seen her turn to God, asking for forgiveness, help, and the strength to do right. We know what she struggles with, fights against, and deals with daily. We know what she believes, even when she doesn’t live up to it. She tells us what God has shown her, as we learn to listen to His leading. We trust her common sense and her advice because we know she’s basing it on God’s Word.
She’s a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a niece, a wife, a friend, a woman. But mainly, she’s a mother. Mine.

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