Today is Friday, May 9th, 2003; Karen's Korner #50

To celebrate Mother's Day on Sunday, I am sharing three writings which I have received in the past couple of weeks; one is from Jim's sister Melvene and two are from Rowan/Lake Cornelia resident Jack Burt. I forget which ones are which! (Way too long, read any, all you have time for!)

 

 #1: MOM - Job Description

POSITION: Mother, Mom, Mama

JOB DESCRIPTION: Long term, team players needed, for challenging permanent work in an, often chaotic environment. Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to
work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24-hour shifts on call. Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities. Travel expenses not reimbursed. Extensive courier duties also required.


RESPONSIBILITIES: The rest of your life. Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5. Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly. Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf. Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers. Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects. Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks. Must be willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next. Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices.

POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION: Virtually none. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you.

PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE: None required unfortunately. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

WAGES AND COMPENSATION: Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.

BENEFITS: While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth and free hugs for life, if you play your cards right.

 

 

#2: MOTHERS

 

Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can become detached spectators in the lives of their children and shrug, "It’s their life," and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in my son’s head. I asked, "When do you stop worrying?" The nurse said, "When they get out of the accident stage." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted the class, and was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher said, "Don’t worry, they all go through the stage and then you can sit back, relax and enjoy them." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone to ring, the cars to come home, the front door to open. A friend said, "They’re trying to find themselves. Don’t worry in a few years, you can stop worrying. They’ll be adults." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick and tired of being vulnerable. I was still worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle---there was nothing I could do about it. My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

I continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in their appointments. My friends said that when my kids got married I could stop worrying and lead my own life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by my mother’s warm smile and her occasional, "You look pale. Are you all right? Call me the minute you get home. Are you depressed about something?"

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life?

One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, "Where were you? I’ve been calling for three days, and no one answered. I was worried."

I smiled a warm smile. The torch has been passed!

 

 

#3: A Mothers Love

After 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping alive the spark of love.

A little while ago I had started to go out with another woman. It was really my wife's idea.

"I know that you love her," she said one day, taking me by surprise.

"But I love YOU," I protested.

"I know, but you also love her."

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.

"What's wrong, are you well," she asked? My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.

"I thought that it would be pleasant to pass some time with you," I responded.

"Just the two of us." She thought about it for a moment, then said, "I would like that very much."

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous.
When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.

"I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting".

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy.
My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entrées, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.

"It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said.

"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded.
During the dinner we had an agreeable conversation -nothing extraordinary -
but catching up on recent events of each others life.

We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you".

I agreed.

"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home.

"Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.

A few days later my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her.

Some time later I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I was almost sure that I couldn't be there but, never-the-less, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you."

At that moment I understood the importance of saying, in time:
"I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than God and your family.


Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time".

 

 

.. and tacked on to the bottom of that same note were these words of wisdom…

*Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby ...somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, "normal", is history.

*Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct ...somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.

*Somebody said being a mother is boring ...somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.

*Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good"...somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.

*Somebody said "good" mothers never raise their voices ...somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.

*Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother ...somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.

*Somebody said you can't love the fifth child as much as you love the first .....somebody doesn't have five children.

*Somebody said a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing questions in the books ...somebody never had a child stuff beans up his nose or in his ears.

*Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery .....somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten ... or on a plane headed for military "boot camp"

*Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back ...somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.

*Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married .....somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.

*Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home .....somebody never had grandchildren.

*Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her ......somebody isn't a mother.


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