Pure purrfections: Becoming my mother

Is it really so bad? Sure..she is bogged down with me, my son and my grandmother but is my mother so bad? Is it a horrible thing to become her? Why is it that most women try to make a point of NOT becoming their mother? It’s what we know. It’s what we have been taught. Period. Your family raised you and if you had a good mother. And even grandmother. There are things that have been passed along. Part of you..is part of who they are. It’s their legacy.

All parents want their children to do well and succeed. Parents that tear up and smile when they see their likeness in their children. Or a reflection of THEIR parents. That’s family. Those are the teachings and the link that you cannot escape. That is home. That is roots. And no matter how much you try to rebel…or fight it…

..or do the exact opposite….you are still you..and the sum of the things you have learned growing up.

Education has a impact. Sure. Its expected to. The schools will teach you what they will. Arthmitic, and English. Basic math or algebra. Geometry and US history. World history. All of those classes that seem useless, and irrelevant. But you still absorb those. They can influence you. And you learned things…pick up what you choose.

But at the end of the day..the person you are…the practical things you have learned. The things you gravitate towards…are the things you love to do. Those are the things you do in your free time. They become who you are. Not your history or geometry. Those may become things that accelerate your career, or earn you money. But what you learn from your family and what is innate is what you become.

You can fight it. You can do the exact opposite of what your family wants. But as you grow and begin to do things you enjoy. What you are good at..what feels good..they all go back to family.

I’m 43. So when I say a child..I mean my teens and under, and my early years, I mean 20 until the last 5 years or so. Everything I did as a child..was obligatory. I did things that were expected of me. That I should be doing. Sometimes more, sometimes less. I pretty much did what I wanted to do, unless it was about my son.  I did things that would benefit him. Not all things mind you. Because I was still pretty selfish, but I did things that i felt were right, and a safe balance between what I wanted and what I felt I needed to do for him. Luckily I had a very strong support system and when I failed or made those selfish decisions, my family [mother, grandmother, stepfather, grandfather, uncle] were there to pick up the slack.

But what my son gained, by me making those decisions, is immeasurable. He loves to fish. Me, not so much. But by being able to spend time with my mother and uncle, he learned to fish, and like it. And excel at it. And by being with my grandmother, he learned perfection. And accuracy. And determination. Those are things that I could not have given him. Even with the time spent with him, because I myself had not really learned them or had an interest.

And here we come full circle to his graduation. And he still amazes me daily. My heart grows stronger every day as he comes home to tell me stories of something he learned. Or realized. And these are things I could not have taught him specifically. Just that he has learned. Just like his love of cars, or other habits.

Anyway, my comparison to my son is just a glimpse into the things I have learned from my mother.

No, shes not perfect. Yes, she has her moments. But who I Am Today is a direct reflection of HER. To the point that it is scary. To the point that today I said “oh, so what you are really saying is that I a becoming my mother?” Which, ya know…really isn’t so bad. Shes an awesome person. Shes is so patient and determined and consistent with assisting my ailing grandmother. And works full time. And spends time with my son. And still manages her hobbies like gardening, and canning. And spends some more time with my son. Which, btw are some of mine. So, would it really be so bad?

It was in relation to my truck. OK. OUR truck. My car engine busted, and I decided to give it to the kid for graduating. So now I drive the truck. Same year as my moms only it’s a full cab and 4×4 [which is always better] I didn’t realize it was the same year when we bought it. It was just the right price etc. And everyone was telling me how it suits me, and looks good etc. Like my mom. It’s got potting soil and dirt. So it turns out even though I love hot rods and muscle cars, they dont really suit me. A truck, just like, um moms does. And I was told to ask my mom for help today on our garden.

And the canning, and the Christmas baskets. Etc. It really goes on and on.

As much as any female hates to admit it..

I have become my mother..and I’m pretty proud of it.