My Mom

I know it’s not Mother’s Day anymore, but let’s just, for the sake of this post, call it Mother’s Week. Then it won’t be late.

This is my mom:

and Silje, and me, and a little bit of Elias.

My mom was born in Japan while her parents were missionaries there. She started going to a boarding school there for missionary kids when she was only in 2nd grade, and took the 6 hour train ride to visit her parents on the weekends with her brothers and sisters. She is the 2nd of 7 children.

My mom got married young. She was only 19. She loved my dad very much. My dad was an alcoholic, and she endured more than most woman could until they finally divorced when I was almost 5, My mom was a single parent to my older brother and sister and I for almost 7 years. During that time, she finished her college education through night school, took on a paper route in addition to her full time job when her job stopped paying for health insurance, and is the hardest worker I have ever encountered. I honestly don’t know when she slept in those 7 years. She was often up at 3-4 am to begin her paper route before her full time job, and she was often up late studying or getting things done. Still, she never missed a school program, and was always a chaperon on my school field trips, and had us recite Bible verses before we prayed for supper at night. When I was 11, she married my step-dad.

In addition to caring for us, she was the church treasurer. And, of course, whenever the church doors were open, day or night, we were there. She required respect and she was always talking of God’s love.

My mom is the definition of “tough love.” She puts up with very little, but she had so much compassion on us. I remember when we moved from Denver to Phoenix, I was having a very difficult time in my new school, and at one point, ran away from the school in tears, and found my mom at home calling temp agencies. I just cried to her that I couldn’t go back, I just couldn’t. She let me cry, and held me. The next day, I went right back.

Another time I remember money was so tight, and she always had me go to a certain friend’s house before school, since she left for work before I left for school. That friends’ mom was a gifted seamstress, and I remember drooling over a dress my friend got from her mom that was navy with little pink roses all over it. I cried to my mom how I don’t have any pretty dresses like that, and in fact, all of my clothes were my sister’s cast offs. I couldn’t remember the last time I had something new.

The next day my mom came home from work with an outfit from Ross with the tags still on. It was just for me. It wasn’t my birthday or anything. It was some jeans with a button down white shirt, with rosebuds embroidered on it. I just cried. Looking at the tag, I saw it was $20 and I was shocked she actually spent that much on me. My sister was mad at me, because I made Mom so guilty that she went out and spent money we didn’t have.

I remember paying bills with my mom. It was a family affair at our house. Jeremy would help keep the ledger, I think, and Heidi would write the checks. I don’t remember what I did, but it was probably reading something or other. We always wrote the tithe first. Then the rent, then the utilities. There were some times, when we didn’t have enough. I remember Mom gathering us around, without any fear, and saying “I wonder how God will provide this month. Keep your eyes open…because He’ll do something amazing and you don’t want to miss it.” He always did, and pretty soon, we weren’t surprised by it.

She was tough, though. If we didn’t do our homework, and failed a class, (which did happen…) she’d make you get a job and pay for summer school. Maybe she should have looked over our shoulder more, but she had so much on her plate! We woke ourselves up for school and if we missed the bus, we walked. We were in charge of doing our own laundry at age 12, and were assigned a laundry day when we’d have access to the washer and dryer. If you didn’t do it on that day, it didn’t get done. Once, when someone we knew got in trouble with the law, and his mom ran to the jail to bail him out so he didn’t have to sleep there overnight, my sister and I looked at each other and said “If it were our mom, she would leave us there overnight. If we were stupid enough to get there, we deserve to be there.” Mom at first acted shocked at that, but after about a minute, said “yeah, I think I’d let you stay over night. I’d visit you the next day, though!”

My mom made it very clear that we were all to go to college. Period. She also made it clear that when we were 18, we were on our own. She said if we were going to school full time, we could stay with her, and eat for free. If we dropped out, she’d start charging rent…which would increase every month, a fact we never doubted. If we lived with her during that time, we’d have to go by house rules too.

I remember when I was about to go into my sophomore year of college, I was considering taking a year off and working at my old high school. I was nervous about what she would say about it, and as a 19 year old, tentatively asked her permission to take a year off of school. I will never ever forget what she said. She said that I didn’t need her permission. For anything. I was an adult and this was no body’s decision but mine. She said she’ll always be there for me for advice and council, and she always hoped I’d come to her for that. However, she refused to give or deny permission.

It scared me to death. The thought freaked me out that I could actually screw up my life, and have no one to blame. Then I realized…she believed in me. She thought I was capable of making the decision. She was going to support me whichever way I went. She was treating me like an adult.

She is such a great adviser to me, too. Although, she always takes Knut’s side when I complain to her about something, which sometimes is annoying, but she never wants to come between us, and will always seek to remind me how great he is. Even though she lives so far away, we talk all the time, and she knows my kids, and their personalities, and my struggles as a mom. She has so much wisdom to give. I do try not to get upset when she and Knut talk so much, and I really want a turn on the phone with her. I also tried not to get upset when after she met Knut, she plainly told me that I better make it work, because if I screw it up with him, I’ll have to leave the family, because he’s staying. (Well, she did say she’d miss me!) With her being an accountant, and his interest in finance, they love to discuss savings stuff, and IRAs, and whatever other really boring money stuff.

My mom is a human Bible concordance. I mean, I don’t need an “App” on my phone to know where anything is. I just have to call her up and say “Mom, where is that verse about such and such?” and she’ll either give me that chapter and verse on the spot, or at the very least say “um, it’s at the end of chapter 6 in the book of Hebrews.” And then she’ll spout off verses connected to that one that might clarify the verse she gave reference to. I have no idea how she can know that much information! I know that she and my papa (step-dad) pray for me and my family every day.

I don’t know what else to say, besides “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!” I miss you even though we talked this morning, and can’t wait to see you when you come up in a few weeks for your high school reunion. I hope that when I grow up, I can be a mom like you.