Random thoughts... snippets of life in rural New England
Published on August 21, 2005 By HC1240 In Misc
I’m becoming my mother. This transformation is a subtle thing, but it’s there just the same. When I first noticed it, I was… chagrined.

At times, I am dealing with my children and certain phrases pop out of my mouth: “This house is not a gymnasium!” “Do you hear me?” “Did you grow up in a barn?” As I utter the words, I can almost imagine that my voice turns into the voice of my mother. There’s an edge to it, but not a course or brittle one, just different. Her voice is a little deeper than mine, a little clearer. My mother’s voice is smooth, unhindered by the raspy tinge of years of smoking—unlike my own. Yet the words are the same. I hear myself repeating the quotes and am instantly taken back in time twenty years.

For ages my mother directed the music and drama ministries at my church. I remember clearly the day she “passed the baton”—only it wasn’t a baton. My mom had grown tired of the work this duty involved and I was fresh at the reigns, eager and full of excitement for this new venture. I had already begun taking over many of the responsibilities. During a choir rehearsal, my Dad appeared with a tall canvas “Director’s Chair”. My parents had lovingly had my name and the word “Director” silk screened onto the back of the chair. Everyone clapped and I cried. In retrospect, I can see it was another step in becoming my mother.

About five years ago, I found myself at the cash register of a department store with an outfit I had spent all of ten minutes selecting: black stretch pants, a green shirt, a jacket with off-white, black and green woven into a plaid type pattern. “Oh my gosh!” I muttered. “This is exactly what Mom would wear!” It was an odd sensation.

I’m married to a wonderful man who is so much like my father it’s scary. They have the same unique sense of humor, they are both men of faith, and they each fix computers for a living. If I “married my father” as people tell me, doesn’t that make me more like my mother?

When I first began noticing how much I was like my mother (I was in my early twenties), I cringed inwardly. Do all young parents hope to be different from their parents? Do they all consider themselves in some way superior? I did. I was not becoming my mother!

As I’ve matured, however, I’ve discovered my mother to be a woman of impeccable character and high moral standards. She has incredible strength and wisdom; she is courageous, bold, opinionated and not hesitant to voice her opinions. She has raised three children, managed a household and upheld all the duties of a pastor’s wife for over twenty years. She is a published author, an accomplished painter, a seamstress, a counselor, a leader in her church family, and my best friend. She has been and done all of these things at the same time and has made it look easy, although now that I myself am an adult I know it was anything but easy. I have incredible love and respect for my mother. I cherish her friendship above all others, and in my maturity have come to yet another realization: There are worse things I could become than my mother. With each day that passes, I wish I were more like her.

Comments (Page 2)
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on Aug 25, 2005
I too have turned into my mother. All the things she said to me when I was growing up, the things that I swore I would never say to my children...I have found myself repeating them. Things like 'd'you think money grows in trees??', 'are you really going to wear that today?', 'were you born in a barn?' (to which my repsonse was "no, a hospital with swing doors" - that earned me an afternoon in my room), 'you can't have any dessert unless you eat your peas', 'I know it tastes yukky but it's really good for you'...they've all tumbled off my tongue.

I could never understand my mother wearing big knickers either....until I had to wear them after surgery. Now I understand....they're big, yes, but they're comfortable and I think that come winter I'm going to like them even more! No more chilly belly!

I would really have liked to have seen you three singing like that.....
on Aug 25, 2005
I could never understand my mother wearing big knickers either....until I had to wear them after surgery. Now I understand....they're big, yes, but they're comfortable and I think that come winter I'm going to like them even more! No more chilly belly!

Yep... as I've aged I've also noticed that comfort is coming before style. I look at some of the stuff my teenaged daughter wears and think, "My gosh! How can you stand that?" I'll take loose comfy jeans over low-riding tight ones anyday, even if they DON'T suck in my stomach. Not that there aren't times when I do care about how slimming something is (why else would I dress like I'm in mourning 80% of the time?)... but if it's pinching me, or poking me, or keeping me from breathing... I want no part of it.

I would really have liked to have seen you three singing like that.....

It was cool. I've sung with my mom for years, at church and conferences and such... but this was the first time I've sung with my daughter, so that was special in itself. To have it be three generations was just too cool for words.

Now that I think of it, I did sing with both of them once before, but with a whole bunch of other people too... I think you can check it out here...

Link


This was kind of a family project. Not a great recording... but the lead vocal is me, back up vocals are Mom and Jes... and the band is mostly family: hubby, me, my uncle, and a couple of friends. We're not great, but we sure have fun. It takes a couple of minutes to download, I think... hope it works for ya.
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