My mom

Every year when Mother's Day comes around I wonder what my children really think of it. They (well, most of them) have outgrown the macaroni necklaces and handprint gifts they used to give. When you're little, Mother's Day is kind of forced upon you by the other adults in your life. Your dad, your Sunday School teachers, etc. But when you get older you actually have to think about what you're saying on Mother's Day. I imagine feelin' the love comes easier some years than others.

I know it did for me. I don't really remember many Mother's Days from my childhood. And even as a teenager, I'm ashamed to say. I hope we treated my mother well. What I do know is that I never, ever really understood what my mom went through for my sister and me. I never understood the depth of her love. I never imagined how glad I would be when someone told me I was "turning into" my mother.

Some of you know my mom. You know her as "Danna." That's because Danna has become her name to just about everyone, ever since Jarrett (the first grandchild) couldn't say Grandma. We stayed with her while Dave was in Operation Desert Storm and "Danna" became the moniker that would stick. She does have a real name. It's Sylvia Diane. Sometimes I call her "Sylvie" just because it's cute--and my aunt does. But most of the time even I call her Danna. Dave calls her Danna. The neighborhood kids call her Danna. All the rest of her grandchildren call her that. One day one of my kids asked who Danna was. They just thought she was this nice lady named Danna who spent a lot of time with us--they never connected Danna to "Grandma."

And that's fitting. Technically she IS a grandma. But, as I have repeatedly heard, she is not like a normal grandma. I mean, she rides horses, for pete's sake! What is more un-grandma-like than that?! She went for a walk with Alyson in Germany and they came back 3 1/2 hours later. Turns out they got lost and had to "hike" up a huge cliff so they could see where they were. That remains one of Alyson's favorite memories. She went down the water slide at the Y in North Carolina--maybe not one of her favorite times, but I know she was proud of herself! She gives rides to anyone in the neighborhood who needs a ride to school.

She volunteered as a Bluebirds leader and a Girls in Action leader when we were little. She worked with special needs children then too and has recently begun working as a helper to a little boy with Down's Syndrome who is attending mainstream classes at her local school. She loves those kids--including all the rest of the kids in the class. And they love her. She goes out of her way to be kind to others and everyone she comes in contact with is left feeling like they are important.

My mom is cool.

But the thing that strikes me most every Mother's Day is that all those years when I was ignoring, rebelling against, avoiding my mom, I was learning. I was learning patience and grace and humility and faith. My mom was left to figure out how to support her two children on a paltry salary and child support. She worked and saved and scrimped and rebuilt her life.We didn't help her at all. I lived completely in the "me" world and hopped back and forth to whomever could give me what I thought I wanted. Then I got out of there. My mom never stopped loving me or welcoming me back. She never failed to give me another chance. She forgave me over and over again and she trusted God with her every step.

I am still turning to her to learn. She is the first person I call when I want to share good family news or bad news or even no news. It's just nice to hear her voice. There is something about calling my mom that makes everything feel better. She commented the other day that the way we deal with things is just to have a cry if we need to, then buckle down and start working. She's right. We don't sit around wailing and feeling sorry for ourselves. We trust God has the situation in His hands and do what we can to prepare our fields for rain. I'm like her in that.

My mom leaves long, rambling voice mails when she calls. I'm like her in that. (just ask Alyson....who is showing that dominant gene I might add) My mom loves her horses--they are her calming influence in her life. Where she wants to be when she needs a pick me up. I'm like her in that (except for me, it's my chai teas at Atlanta Bread Co. Hey, it's a stretch but still similar....)

I miss her a lot. I wish we weren't so far away. I wish she could come sit on my couch and drink coffee and fold clothes and take little naps. She can't right now and I know that. And so, for now, I imagine what she would say to me, or I call her and hear what she'll say to me, and I console myself with the idea that I really am turning into my mother. I hope that when my children are grown and moved away I am like Danna to them. I think that I fully understand now what a mother's love really is. It's one of those things that can't be taught--it has to be lived. And now that I am a mother and have experienced many of the stages of motherhood from infancy to adulthood, I think I really get it.

I love you, mom.

Happy Mother's Day