My mother never taught me about the
thrill of a first kiss or the hurt of that first breakup. She never told me
about the love between a man and a woman and the joy of standing at the altar
vowing before God, family and friends to love him forever.
My mother never taught me about the
emotions of holding my newborn child in my arms for the first time, or the feeling of
responsibility for their lives. She never told me about the overwhelming sense of awe I'd feel knowing that this child came from within me. That I created the life, nourished it for nine long months, and now had to nourish and care for it
in the real world. She never taught me I'd feel this amazing sense of awe with each child.
My mother never taught me the
feeling of swelled pride at watching my children take their first steps or hearing
her first words.
She never taught me about the
combination of pain and pride I would feel as I watched my children waltz off
to school looking so grown up and yet so young. So independent. She never told
me how I’d feel when they came home and said “But Miss so and so said it was
better to do it this way.” and the realization that I was no longer the sole
influence in their life.
My mother never taught me about the
fear of having a child in the hospital undergoing tests by a neurologist after
a normal eye exam discovered a problem or sitting in an emergency room while
your child undergoes an emergency appendectomy. She never told me how difficult
it would be to watch your child suffer through typical childhood illnesses, stitches
or broken bones.
She never taught me about the fear
of letting your child go down the street to play or crossing the street for the
first time by themselves.
My mother never taught me about
dealing with my daughter’s first crush and heartbreak and lost love. She never
told me how hard it would be to watch my children struggle to get good grades
or make the team or try to fit in.
She never taught me about the pride
of watching my child march down the auditorium to receive their diploma or
hearing about their first job. My mother never told me of the deep fear I’d
experience when they learned to drive or getting that phone call that told you
they had an accident.
My mother never taught me of the
excitement of their engagement and the trials of planning a wedding. She never
told me of the happiness and pride I’d feel watching them walk down the aisle
to stand beside the one they would vow to spend their life with or the worry
that this child was now totally independent of you.
She never taught me of the sense of
wonder I’d feel holding my newborn grandchildren for the first time.
She never explained that these
feelings of worry and concern never go away when my children grew up. My mother
didn't tell me the worries would only strengthen as my children married and had
children of their own. That I’d have more to love and worry about.
She never told me was how it feels
to be a mother. She never told me about
the joy, pain, and overwhelming awe of being a mother and grandmother. I now
know why my mother never taught me these things. Because these thing have to be experienced to
understand the wonderful sense of being a mother.
But the biggest thing my mother
never taught me was how I’d feel when she was no longer here to talk with, to
share my feelings with after she passed from this world. She never taught me
how to deal with the sense of loss at losing a loved one or the pain deep
within that I would carry through the rest of my days. She never told me how
much I’d miss her.
Roseanne's books can be found at Amazon
Forced to stay in a nursing home while undergoing therapy, seventy-two year old, Mike Powell refuses to get out of bed, won't cooperate with the nurses, and won’t take his medicine. At least not until he meets Elsa. The tiny, spunky little Elsa sparks new life into him.
Seventy year old, Elsa -left in the home while her son takes a family vacation - joins forces with Mike, setting the home on its heels, and later discovers deception and fraud. Can they find happiness together?
CLICK TO BUY |
Forced to stay in a nursing home while undergoing therapy, seventy-two year old, Mike Powell refuses to get out of bed, won't cooperate with the nurses, and won’t take his medicine. At least not until he meets Elsa. The tiny, spunky little Elsa sparks new life into him.
Seventy year old, Elsa -left in the home while her son takes a family vacation - joins forces with Mike, setting the home on its heels, and later discovers deception and fraud. Can they find happiness together?
No comments:
Post a Comment
I have opened up comments once again. The comments are moderated so if you are a spammer you are wasting your time and mine. I will not approve you.