One of my favorite memories from childhood is my mom making me pancakes in animal shapes every Saturday morning. She is always showing her love in ways like that. Every Christmas, we can be sure she’ll have our stockings filled with individually wrapped presents that are suited to each of us specifically. And we can expect the same in our Easter baskets.
She showed her love in some strict ways too. She was pretty diligent about our diets. Back then the dietary wisdom was all about the four basic food groups (no pyramid yet), so every meal had something from grain, meat, fruit/vegetable, and dairy. We weren’t allowed to drink pop except if our parents allowed us to have a sip of what they were drinking. And we certainly weren’t allowed to help ourselves to food whenever we wanted. As a kid it was sometimes frustrating to have my sack lunch and look around the lunch table to see that most of the other kids had Wonderbread sandwiches, pudding cups, and baggies of chips and cookies, but now I’m glad that mom didn’t destroy us with poor nutrition.
Mom is the one we get our musical talent from. We were all rocked to sleep by her lullabies when we were little. She majored in music and was a choir director and worship leader and has sung at weddings. She’s the one who got us signed up for piano lessons and made sure we joined band. Her artsy/creative streak goes beyond music, though. She made our Halloween costumes, for example. My favorite is the skunk costume she made when I was in second grade. She’s also the one who signed me up for ballet lessons and drove me there after basketball practice while I changed clothes in the back seat.
Then there’re all the little things I learned from my mom, like the secret to really good scrambled eggs, how to color coordinate an outfit, my appreciation for crossword puzzles, the joy of British imports on PBS, and how to beat up a neighborhood kid who’s picking on your sibling (this one by listening to stories of her childhood; I, of course, wouldn’t dream of resorting to violence).
While she’s not an extravert, (none of us Meads are, oddly enough), my mom definitely isn’t afraid to speak her mind. Remind you of anyone? A large part of who I am is due to my mom’s influence. That’s why I’m posting this on her 70th birthday as a celebration of her and a thank you for all she’s done.