What My Mother Didn't Do

Dear Mom-

All week, I wrote bits and pieces of this letter in my head. It started out as a typical Mother's Day letter idea...a thank you note for all that you've done for me.

But lately, as I've seen my babies slowly but surely turn into little people, my thoughts have changed in regards to my role as mother. What I've always heard has become hard reality...something I pushed back into my mind.

I am raising these children to LEAVE me.

My responsibility isn't just to keep them clean and dry and fed anymore...that's the easy part!

But now that hard reality...that game changer...that letting go, the "learning the hard way" part...those HARD teaching moments have begun. Teaching responsibility, natural consequences...so hard to watch, OWNING their lives...slowly but surely, letting go. Knowing when to keep quiet, knowing when to let the pieces fall where they may, and watching them put them back together...and hopefully hear that "click" in their mind...oh, I strive for that "click".

More than ever what I appreciate about the way you raised me is what you didn't give me. Because now I know, the giving is the easy part. The giving, as a parent, comes natural to most.

It's the holding back, it's the NOT giving...that's the hard stuff.

So this Mother's Day I'm going to thank you for what you didn't give me:

1. Stuff.

I know what you will say, "Well, we couldn't have if we wanted to." But you know that's not true, really. You chose to spend your money on education, not on material things. You knew that things come and go, and given easily, are not appreciated. But knowledge, the love of learning...your high standards for our education was worth more than any toy, any designer clothing, any extra-curricular, ANYTHING. Oh, I remember looking with envy as a child at some of my friend's stash of dolls, endless fancier and more expensive "push button ponies" and riding competetions. As I hit the teenage years it turned to also include clothes and shoes, and even then as I entered adulthood, financial help. But now I look back at your choices and I'm so thankful. If you did make a purchase, the simple gifts we got for birthday's and Christmas's, you never chose quantity over quality...less is more, tastefully simple...classy is the word that comes to mind. I learned to live on less when I had too, to appreciate the beautiful things in life when I could, but always, always, that less is more.

2. Entertainment.

I don't remember you actually playing with me. We were not "entertained" children, that's for sure. You supplied the crayons and the paper, the paints and coloring books, and a neighborhood filled with trees, plants, rocks, grass, ponds and streams. The books too, and of course a few toys. And that was it. I was free to do as I pleased, but I had to think it up with my own brain. I wrote, I read, I drew, I played, I imagined, I dreamt, I contemplated, I exercised my body and my mind because you guided me in that direction. What a gift!

3. Your Constant Presence.

Of course you were always available to me, but as I grew, you let me go, little bits at a time. In all aspects of my life I learned internal motivation. I am my own person, with my life to live however I see fit, not just an extension of you and your interests and desires. I am in charge of my destiny, OWN IT, was what I learned.

4. Advice.

I hardly ever remember you giving me advice. I could count on one hand. Even when asked. I look around now and see girls, WOMEN, who can hardly function without their mother within a cell phone's reach away. I laugh when I think of what you would say if I called you from a store and asked, "Should I buy it in brown or black?" You taught me to make decisions on my own confidently, big or small. How? By not helping me make them. By telling me I know best. By teaching me, sometimes the hard way, that I have to trust myself and live with the consequences of those decisions whatever they may be. The only way you get good at making the right decisions is to practice...and practice I did, because I had to.

5. An Easy Way Out.

A common trend in parenting today to make everything easier for the child. You saw the growth in struggling, and the reward of hard work. If I had the hard teacher and the riding instructor and you didn't march in and demand something better for me. You let me dig my holes in life, and watched me dig out too. Life isn't easy was the message all the time. Be prepared for hard work and struggles. It builds endurance, resiliency and character and you knew this.

Thank you Mom, for what you didn't give me.

Thank you for holding back, for shutting up, for not stepping in.

For biting your tongue and sometimes probably, walking away.

For making the hard choices and waiting, most likely with baited breath, and lots of heated prayer, to see how I would grow from them.

For not being selfish in wanting to keep me young, to keep control, to keep parenting but having the courage to let go and trust.

For always keeping in mind the purpose of a mother...to essentially work yourself out of a job.