"What are the most important things you learned from your mother?"
A friend asked that question a couple of weeks ago, looking for some ideas for a talk she'd be giving at church on Mother's Day. I didn't realize at first how thought-provoking it would be to spend a little time reflecting on that simple inquiry. It really got me thinking.
Mom's been gone for a long time, but I imagined how she'd be dealing with the current socioeconomic mess we're in. One thing I learned early was about living within means. There never was much money coming in the door at Hillside Avenue in Hartford, Connecticut when I was growing up, and there were no credit cards. Mom and dad focused on taking care of the basics in ascending order. On occasion that meant buying a few groceries instead of paying the electric bill on time... which in my pre-school days sometimes meant scrambling to hide in the basement stairwell while dad was at work and a bill collector was at the door.
The most important thing I learned from mom, however, has more to do with keeping things in perspective, taking things in stride, and maintaining a sense of humor no matter what twists life brings.
What's that? A Baby?
My mom was 42 years old when I was born. I'm the last of four kids; my sister -- the next youngest -- is seven years older than me. I was a bit of a surprise... Keep in mind I was born halfway back in the last century, so the art and science of medicine was somewhat less precise than it is now, but the story mom told in her lifelong lilting Irish brogue:
"I left, but finally ended up going to see another doctor, and I was right. I was pregnant.
"About a year later was I was walking down the street with my baby carriage and I ran into Dr. Sear. He said, 'Delia! What do you have there? A baby?'
"I said, 'No. It's a little fart with a bonnet.'"
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