We had just planted some zucchini seeds to add to the corn, tomatoes, peppers and flower that were already in the ground. Jokingly, my husband asked, “Do we have any zucchini yet?” By no means would I laugh at this or suggest that he give the seeds a few weeks. Magically, I heard myself say, “They’ll come up when they are ready.”
Why was this magic? Because it sounded exactly like something my sweet mom would have said. That would have been a teaching opportunity for her. Her understanding was endless and her dedication to enhancing or promoting me was tireless.
This miniature revelation caused me to wonder how much of me came from her, in many cases without my awareness. I’m sure that she taught me about forever. She said that she would love me forever. She also assured me that with my curiosity about everything, I would be forever learning something. Happily, she was absolutely right about this. Or maybe I remained curious because she fostered it – that’s probably the case.
Something else that I remember is to think before you speak; once you say something, you can never take it back. Admittedly, I haven’t always followed this guidance and I’ve said many things that I wish I could recover. But the real point is that I remember her guidance and with many people and in many instances, I have carefully measured what I said or didn’t say.
In many contexts, she taught me patience with things and with people. Being in the classroom, I am acutely aware of this wisdom. And I never become frustrated with my keyboard. As I battle with my sewing machine, I clearly remember that she never gave up or displayed frustration with any of the sewing that she did. Maybe it was because much of what she sewed was for me. Most likely it was because she never said the words, “I give up.”
It will be increasingly illuminating for me to examine my speech or thoughts so that I can silently deliver the credit to which she is due. Her maternal wisdom was eternally wise and I always wish that more were available. Shalom.