Mom Memories

When you have been a Mom for a long time, it sometimes blends all the memories of your own Mother into your Mom experiences. That should not be a surprise since most of what you learn about being a Mom you learned from your mother. Even in the age of books and technology, the really good tips are the original “from Mom” tricks that are generational and believe it or not, but someday your kids will look at you and say, “Oh no, I am turning into my MOM.” That’s when you really know you’ve made it. Thing is, you might be old and gray before you hear it!
One of the best pieces of advice I ever got about mothering was that when your baby sleeps, so do you. That means day or night because sometimes the days are nights. But one of my bests memories also are those of sitting in the rocking chair in the dark and quiet with a tiny baby that you are rocking back to sleep for the fifteenth time that night. The lullaby has been sung fifteen times and as your heads droop, you know that this is really the best it gets. Mom and baby in the rocking chair! That’s a fond memory. I was fortunate that my youngest sister was born when I was sixteen years old. I can remember my Mom rocking her and also myself rocking her as I was an important part of her first months, due to my mother’s illness. I got lots of practice and was prepared for my own six children in ways that most young girls are not. Those memories are also among the best.
And then, there were our own six and then there were baby girl foster daughter and baby boy foster son. Those are distinct memories because I cared and loved someone else’s children who soon became an integral part of our family life.
Moms are so good about showing up at a daughter’s home when a newborn arrives. How could we have managed without them? Their subtle hints never seemed like criticism, only a way to help a little someone that has now entered her life as grandchildren to be all mixed up with other childhood memories. Now, I am the grandmother who goes to help with the newborn. More memories get into the mix.
And now, all the memories are of my Mom because she taught me all I know and because they are also part of all this and it is all passed on. Somehow, this sounds all mixed up because that’s what memories of Moms are. They are all mixed up in your life and those of your families. Just how important she was in my life is something I ponder so frequently. Hopefully, my own children will have the same sampling of memories as I have! But I forget! Their own memories will get mixed in too!