Mirror mirror on the wall, I am my mother afterall.
I actually purchased this wall hanging for my sister years ago – we all laughed hysterically at the time because that was actually considered a huge “burn” back then. Mom was still with us at the time of said purchase and she wisely chuckled to herself.
Now, not so funny. Not only because she’s been gone for eleven years, but because truer words were never spoken.
I am her. I think like her. I feel exactly like she did regarding so many issues. Turns out this was not an insult afterall, and now I want that darn thing back.
Hey Mom, I’m here to tell ya and I can only hope you can see this:
YOU WERE RIGHT!!!! About almost everything, and everyone. The friends of mine you adored I still love with all my heart, those you weren’t so crazy about have fallen by the wayside (or gone to the Big House). The rules you insisted on are my guide, the values you instilled in me are intact, and so far I like to think I have caused no harm (no blood letting harm anyway). You definitely set the best of examples and I thank you and think of you every single day of my life. I can only hope that some day Jamie Lynn will mouth these same words, even though I’ll be floating on a big fat cloud of heavenly chardonnay when she makes the realization.
Mommy knows best. Because I said so. Do as I say, not as I do.
Who doesn’t remember these mommy-isms? I can still picture my rebellious teen self scoffing at those words, despising them at the time, and then years later repeating them to my own kid, word for word.
Make good choices. Pay the piper if you don’t.
Genius, I tell ya. Bad/poor choices have wrecked many a life. Sometimes a spur of the moment choice is required, other times planning ahead is imperative. Either way one must use one’s head and often one’s heart to make the proper choice. You can just feel “bad” deep in your bones, if in fact you were blessed with a conscience (got mine at Walmart, not always dependable).
This gal tends to lean a bit more towards solidarity as I age – yet another thing I never understood about Mom. She didn’t seem to need so many folks later in her life and was quite content to spend hours each day quietly reading or sitting alone. I thought she was boring. Now, I absolutely crave “alone” time, and get downright cranky if it’s not available. I know so many women my age who simply cannot be by themselves or without constant activity, and quite frankly I pity them. They have no idea what they’re missing, or maybe they just don’t care for their own company. As for me and my mom, quiet time is imperative to maintain our state of mental health and well being, and in my case, to enforce the no blood letting harm rule. People bug me, a lot.
“All women become like their mothers, that is their tragedy. No man does – that’s his!” Oscar Wilde
Jamie actually made that plaque for me several years ago – actually wood burned it – so maybe, just maybe, she’s got an early start….I can only hope that she too will someday utter such “boring” mommy-isms to her own children which by the way have yet to be produced and I’m getting a little impatient here…….
