For my Mother

Happy Sunday and happy Mother’s day to all of my readers! Since we’re all called to motherhood (spiritual or biological or both), I think of this day as a day for all women, regardless of state of life. However, I would be remiss if I didn’t dedicate a post to my incredible mom on this special day. Fortunately for me, my mom’s primary love language (in terms of how she prefers to receive love) is Words of Affirmation, and that just happens to be my forte. So, this one’s for you, Mom: 

Clearly, the Sunmaid Raisin girl was modeled after my Mom. (OK, that’s not true, but it could be!)

The best thing about my Mom is that she is a saint. And I don’t say that flippantly. I know few people on this earth who desire to know, love, and serve Jesus more than my mother. She hungers and thirsts for Him above all else. And she wants everyone to know His love, to experience His salvation, to know what it is to be taken into His arms and redeemed. One of my earliest memories of my Mom is of the way she looked after she received communion each Sunday. Her affect was other-worldly (I’m convinced she’s a mystic) and as my little girl eyes observed her coming back to the pew and kneeling and praying so intensely, all I wanted was to receive Jesus too. Thank you, Mom, for teaching me to love Jesus. 

She and my Dad read the Bible to us every day. They prayed with and for us every day. They took us to Mass every Sunday. They spoke about Jesus as if he were a real Person with whom we could have a living, breathing relationship. Jesus was never simply an idea or a figure from the past to my siblings and me when we were children. Anytime something good happened, Mom would say, “Look what Jesus did! Praise the Lord!” And when something unpleasant or difficult happened, she would remind us that Jesus was still present and that we should praise Him in all things. Thank you, Mom, for being evidence of Christ’s presence in my life.

Mom truly embodies St. Paul’s admonition to “pray without ceasing.” She’s always praying. It truly is the air she breathes. Whether she is singing while folding the laundry, praying out loud while she cleans the kitchen, spending hours in Adoration, praying along with her rosary and/or chaplet CD in the car…she does. not. stop. And I can only imagine that when she gets to Heaven, one of the first things that Jesus will reveal to her is the efficacy of her prayers. Sometimes, I wonder about how different my life would be if I didn’t have my Mom as my #1 prayer warrior. And I know that my love for prayer is in large part due to her witness. Thank you, Mom, for teaching me how to pray. 

Mom also taught me the meaning of sacrificial love. She stayed at home with all four of us kids, even though it was often a lonely and arduous task, especially while my Dad was in residency. She woke up an hour earlier than we did, just so she could get her prayer time in and be in a good frame of mind to take on the day with us.  She did thousands of loads of laundry. She drove us to and from every school event, tournament, and friend’s house.  She loved without counting the cost. Thank you, Mom, for embodying Christ’s command to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 

Everyone feels at home with my Mom. Everyone. The woman does not have a stingy bone in her body: all she wants is to show Jesus’ love to each person she meets (even complete strangers in the buffet line at a resort in Mexico) and each person who comes into her home (even jerky boyfriends who she doesn’t like). I pray that my heart will continue to grow in this type of generosity, and that others will feel as embraced by me as they do by my Mom. Thank you, Mom, for teaching me how to welcome the stranger. 

Growing up, I dealt with a lot of insecurities, but it certainly was not due to a lack of encouragement by my parents, especially my Mom. She was my biggest fan. To this day, she tells me that “the world is my oyster” and thinks I can do anything (literally) and that I am a genius (although I think I’ve finally convinced her that this isn’t the case). If a boy teased me, she was convinced he had a crush on me, because how could he not!? Likewise, if a girl was mean to me, obviously she was jealous. What other explanation could there possibly be? To this day, I know that if I need a pep talk, it’s only a phone call or email away. My Mom gives me a glimpse into how Christ sees me, and for that I am incredibly grateful. Thank you, Mom, for showing me who I am. 

My Mom is also a lot of FUN. She loves to dance, loves to laugh, and loves to be with people (well, at least until 9 PM rolls around…right Mom? ;)). My siblings and I owe our love for dancing and singing to my Mom (although my Dad has certainly been known to belt a few tunes and bop his shoulders to some jams on occasion), and if you know me, you know how much I love to dance. Thank you, Mom, for showing me how to let go and “dance before the Lord.” 

It’s safe to say that my Mom is the Best Grandmother Ever. (It’s also safe to say that I abuse superlatives more than anyone has ever abused superlatives in the history of the world.) My nieces Sophia and Maddy  are OBSESSED with their “Lita” and when she visits, my siblings and I might as well forget it; we’re basically chopped liver until Mom and Dad head home. It’s been so cool to watch my Mom love on my nieces, because it makes me think of my childhood and what it must have been like when we were babies. Thank you, Mom, for being my first encounter with the love of God (sorry, Dad, but you didn’t give birth to me, so you have to be the second :)). 

My Mom has an insatiable intellectual curiosity, which I’m happy to say I  have inherited from her. She’s constantly asking questions, reading every book she can get her hands on (and like me, she’s always reading at least three at once), attending Bible studies and conferences to expand her knowledge of the faith, and seeking out friends who are brilliant and knowledgeable, in part because she loves to learn from them. Thank you, Mom, for teaching me to desire and seek after the Truth. 

Mom has always been a holy woman, but it was surely the time that she spent as my grandmother Mimi’s caretaker that made her a full-fledged saint. As long as I live, those years during which I witnessed what it truly looks like to deny oneself, take up one’s cross, and love Jesus “in distressing disguise,” will be a point of reference for me when I need an example of what Christian love looks like. I know my Mom thinks that she didn’t love Mimi well enough, but from where I’m sitting, it’s hard to imagine how she could have loved her more. I have no doubt that when she meets Jesus face to face, He will say to her, “Well done, my good and faithful servant,” and that they will embrace like old friends—because my Mom truly has begun to live her heaven on earth. And then she and Mimi will have a praise-and-worship-dance-party combo the likes of which the angels have never seen. It will be epic. 

The longer I teach high school, the more I realize how blessed I am to have parents who truly love each other and whose marriage (while not perfect of course) is centered around love of Christ. Mom and Dad never treat their marriage as a “done deal,” in the sense that they are always seeking to love Jesus and each other more through the Sacrament. My Mom brings out the best in my Dad; she has helped him to become a better man, and it has been such a joy to see them both grown in love for Christ and for each other, especially in the past ten years or so. Thank you, Mom, for showing me what it means to be a loving wife. 

Before I close, I have to toss in a few of my favorite of Mom’s idiosyncrasies, which only make me love her more: 

*Walking around the house with a velcro roller in her hair (because you never know when you’re going to need a little extra “oomf”).

*Cleaning the house before the housekeeper comes. 

*Always traveling with a stash of bagels, apples, pretzels, and Crystal Light packets. 

*The fact that her #1 requirement for hotels when traveling is being as close as possible to a Catholic Church with daily Mass. 

*Drinking coffee through a straw so as to avoid staining her teeth. 

*Her love affair with Cool Whip. 

*The fact that she is NEVER satisfied with a haircut. 

*”I’m sorry, y’all, but I’m a Texan.” 

*Insisting that every guy, from the grocery store bagger to the random guy walking past us in the mall, is checking out at least one of her daughters. 

*Attempting to distract me while we’re having an argument by paying me a compliment. 

*”All I can say is that you’ll understand when you’re a mom.” 

SO much more could be said, but I’ll let these last few photos do the talking for me.

I know without a doubt that I would not be the woman I am today if it weren’t for the love, encouragement, prayers, sacrifices, and witness of my Mother. It pains me to think of how often I took her for granted, was rude, bratty, hyper-critical, unfeeling, or simply ungrateful for my Mom. While I know that she still loves me despite these failings, my hope and prayer is that I will better be able to express my gratitude and love for the incredible gift that God gave me in being born of such a woman. 

I love you, Mom. 

Gracie Grace