Momprints

“I already know the truth and if you lie you will be in serious trouble.”

Her eyes were locked on me. I couldn’t see it- as I was looking to the ground – but I felt her eyes all over me. My heartbeat began a rhythm that sent vibrations through my ears. My legs got numb as I slowly opened my mouth – not even sure what all I would need to share. I had no idea how much she knew already. I lifted my head only to the meet the piercing gaze of my mother looking down at me.

That was it. I spilled the beans. No questions, no hesitations – I literally told it ALL. I explained how my sister took the car and went to McDonald’s when my mom was out of town for work. I mean I told her EVERYTHING, down to the day and time, who was there, where everyone was sitting, what my sister was wearing, and even what people ordered to eat. The entire time I noticed my mother’s anger dissipating with each word I spoke. She stood there intently watching me, taking mental notes with every detail I divulged to her. Finally, I stopped speaking and very simply she asked me if I was done.

Looking up at the smile across her face, I felt a burst of confidence that I had told her everything she knew. Confident I was in the clear on this one. Confident she would not punish me for the actions of my sister and her friends. That is when I heard my mother belt out a laugh so loud I felt my entire body jump as if it were electrocuted. She then leans down so she is eye to eye with me and said, “When I found a McDonald’s cup in the backseat I knew something had happened, but I do appreciate you providing all the details and making it easier for me to understand exactly what.”

This was the day I learned my mother’s genius interrogation tactics.

“We are going to get the perfect birthday gift!”

My mother was obsessed with getting great gifts for those she loved and would shop sometimes months in advance of the actual birthday. This time she wanted to get her boyfriend a birthday gift and although I had no idea what this was, I knew it was going to be amazing and I was excited! We arrived at the location and it did not look like any store I had ever been to for purchasing birthday gifts. The parking lot was dirt, there were tons of trailers and warehouses, and it smelled horrible. My sister and I were told to wait in the car and we did so, patiently impatient as most children are. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she comes around the side of a warehouse, puts a cardboard box with a lid on it right next to me in the backseat, and off we go. I put my left arm on top of the box, and turned my head to the right to look out the window on the way home. About 2 miles away from where we picked up the “perfect gift”, the cardboard box top moved under my arm. It was not a large amount of movement, but enough to let me know something was alive in the box. Terrified, I locked my arm down on the box until we got home and then jumped out of the car as soon as the door to the Dodge Aspen flew open. She then set the box on the kitchen flood and opened the top. That is when I saw a small pig jump out of the box and begin running around the kitchen like a tornado.

Her boyfriend, a farmer, was in desperate need of a new pig. Little did we non-farmers know, pigs are way calmer on farms than they are in kitchens. That pig tore through the kitchen leaving poop and dents all over, from the floor, to the cabinet doors…to the ceiling. Yes, the pig got poop all the way on the ceiling. Eventually the “perfect birthday gift” made a break for it and jumped straight through the screen door. My mother, laughing hysterically, simply said “Well, I guess we need to think of a new gift.”

This was the day I learned to take life’s curve balls just one pig at a time.

“You really need to get it together, girl.”

Standing in the doorway to my bedroom at only sixteen years old, holding my newborn baby boy and furiously crying through mumbled words that my son will not know me because I was always in school or working…she spoke these simple words to me. They were not said in a harsh tone, but with assertive love. I took several deep breaths, laid my son down in his crib and fell asleep. Oddly enough, this pause in time actually did help me get it together. All the doubts I had about raising a child, all the frustrations I felt with being so tired, and all the fears I had that I would not be a good mother seemed to lesson when I woke up. I somehow knew at that moment that I would be a good mother because she was a good mother. I began saying this phrase to myself anytime I felt challenged with life.

This was how I transformed my mother’s words into the self-mantra that took me to and through so many accomplishments in my life.

“It won’t do any good.”

She whispered the words from under the oxygen mask strapped across her face. She chose no intubation. So many hospitalizations, so many infections, so many battles with life that she had won before – but today she faced reality like a soldier. She knew the battle she had fought with her body for over sixteen years was coming to an end. She did not cry. She did not ask why. She did not show any fear at all in that moment. After many phone calls with friends and loved ones sharing their last goodbyes with her, she looked up, took her right hand and unsnapped the mask that was providing her body with the oxygen she needed so desperately to live. It took less than 15 minutes for her life to end. She stepped into her passing like she galloped through her life…absolutely fearless.

This was the final lesson my mother left me with – to accept things for what they are and not for what you want them to be.

My mother passed away on December 17, 2020, but the lessons she taught me will remain alive for the rest of my life. She imprinted on me internal strength, dedicated determination, and an unwavering love for self and others that inspires and motivates anyone daring enough to accept the journey that lies ahead. Or, as she would say, the “journey in which you, yourself, create.”