I know I’ve written about this before, but it is something that Mom taught me many many years ago, and I feel like I learned it well. I don’t always succeed, but for the most part, I try my very best to follow her wise teaching.
I was reminded last week how yucky it makes me feel inside when a kind deed or a gift given is not met with sincere thanks and appreciation.
Granted, a kind deed and gift given with expectation is not a kind deed or a gift at all.
However, I remember Mom commenting countless times about the lack of a simple “thank you,” and how very important it is to return to the giver enthusiastic appreciation for their thoughtfulness.
The joy of receiving is in far more than the gifts – that when we receive graciously and gladly, we reciprocate the gift with joy and gratitude; and in that moment of shared happiness and understanding, giver and receiver “connect.” – Jenny Walton
I LOVE that quote. You gotta read it a couple of times to grasp the deeper.
Mom taught me that even if I receive a box of rocks sincerely given, I should say or write thank you very enthusiastically and with much appreciation, because the giver thought enough of me to give the gift/show kindness.
I used to love when Mom would take me to the store with her and she needed to pick out a pattern. We’d sit on those swivel stools parked in front of the enormous McCalls, Simplicity, Vogue and Butterick books, and I always migrated in the books towards the costumes and the fancy dresses with fur collars and hems. Or the pet costumes. And then, it was SO MUCH FUN to open the big file drawers and locate that pattern based on the number and pull out those fat envelopes with the crinkly pattern paper stuffed inside.
I also enjoyed helping her pin the pattern pieces to the fabric and hearing the cutting and grinding sound of those big heavy shears as she cut each piece so carefully.
And…that’s about as far as my love of sewing goes.
As I wrote some of the things I remembered about Mom yesterday, that fingernail clipping thing hit home. Because, in the office down the hall, I heard the familiar nasty sound of a fellow employee clipping nails.
Which reminded me of dirty kleenex left on an end table.
Which reminded me of people who groom their hair, their skin, their faces, their feet, their hands – you get the picture – in front of other people outside of a bathroom.
It’s an issue. I have the issue.
Your DNA belongs in the trash can, please. The trash can in the bathroom, please. Hygiene, people. I am grateful when you abide by good and thoughtful hygiene.
I had a Taco Johns taco and potato ole’s, (the next best thing to french fries) last night, in memory of Mom. Couldn’t do the churro. Never liked churros. But she loved churros and always got an extra for me.
Because it was Mom’s birthday yesterday as well as Bingo night, I gave each of my Bingo moms and one Bingo dad an amaryllis, something that Mom and Delores always had/have this time of year. They loved their new flowers to plant in their apartments and they enthusiastically said, “Thank you.” We shared happiness and understanding as we remembered Mom, and we connected.
As I continue to remember Mom today WITHOUT any tears, I am grateful that she lived long enough to see her daughter happy and free. I am grateful that she was able to know Sam. She knew we were going to get married, and she gave her resounding blessing. I am grateful that Sam was able to know my Mom, too. They shared many good times in the short time they had together.
Thank you, Lord, for my Mom. She was a wonderful Mom and friend.
Thank you, Lord, for Sam. He’s been a dream-come-true these last three years.