LOVE MY MOM
LOVE MY MOM
Centuries ago, when I first went to Pathways of Light, up near Kiel, Wisconsin, both my mother and my wife told me that they felt that I was being brainwashed by a cult.
Repeatedly, at times of inter-family anger, judgement, stress and conflict, I have asked my mom and my wife, as well as others,"If Jesus were standing here with us right now, what do you think he would have to say about this?"
Both my wife and my mother divorced me.
I don't think that that is what Jesus would have said.
They might have been listening to somebody else.
Anyway.
Mom and I kept in touch over a period of time, (and as my hearing loss became worse and worse), I was finally able to sit and listen to her criticisms and judgements, about me, (I think).
And eventually, acquired great personal insights into dirty family laundry as she shared with me the worries she had about other family members.
I have heard things that I would not repeat on my death bed.
She finally reached a point where she even included non-family members.
Honored individuals, (non-blood related) carefully selected from the world at large, and worthy of raising her blood pressure.
For decades I had believed that I, the first born, was the horse-apple of her eye.
But I hung in there with her, helped out by immense doses of humor and patience, and the irrational conviction that she really was my mother.
This delicate dance was rewarded one exuberant day when she ended her tirade with, "I know, I know, you let me get it all out of my system, but I know that you're going to do exactly what you want to do."
And I replied with gentle laughter and a smile, "You're absolutely right ma, and I Iove you for knowing that about me, and for sharing it with me."
Then I smothered her with smooches till she had more than enough.
Lots more than enough.
She then added, "I don't worry about you Robert, I know that you can take care of yourself, but I do have other people that I do worry about."
What sweet words to hear from a parent,
"I know that you can take care of yourself."
Anyway.
Today, she was sharing her concerns about Barbara and Elmo being here in the country with me, and I gently asked her the same old, same old question, "What would Jesus say about this?"
And today, for the first time, I did get a thoughtful answer from someone who had been upset.
Mom looked at me quietly for a moment, and then shrugged her shoulders and said, "That's my Robert."
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I have also found it important to set boundaries.
An example, was her telling me, "If Jerry is at your house I don"t want to come there."
The reason ma is mad at my second cousin Jerry, is that his Grandpa Louie's ashes are still in his bed and not buried next to his wife Elizabeth, who is Jerry's Grandma, and,
MY MOTHER'S SISTER.
My mom is also upset about Jerry wearing BIB-OVERALLS to Billy Johnston's memorial service, at the Divine Saviour Health Center in Portage, last December.
I thought Jerry looked right nice in his spanking new bib overalls.
This was the same exact outfit that my Grandpa Koebler (my mom's dad, her being one of the six Koebler girls) wore when grandpa went to town with us on Friday night.
Grandma always gave me ten cents to spend on whatever I wanted.
I never blew the whole dime on the same thing.
I usually blew it on two things, spending a nickle on each.
This was one of my first experienes with the feeling of personal power.
Being on the streets of downtown Portage on a Friday night in the 1940s, with a dime in your pocket.
That was power.
(I usually spent one nickle of my treasure on a bag of pretzles that was about the size of a small boy. They would actually weigh out a nickle's worth of pretzels in a big paper bag on a scale, with a big pretzle scooper, that they just kept scoopin' and scoopin' and scoopin' with until the bag was about to fall off the scale. And once they handed me the bag full of pretzles, hanging onto them was a full-time job for the rest of the night. A two-handed full time job. Sometimes I got so full of pretzles that I went back to the farm with the other nickle.)
Anyway.
Jerry's old-fashioned common sense always reminds me of my grandparents' generation.
He is also a genius at repairing and operating antique farm machinery.
And capable of lots and lots of other things.
A few weeks ago a deputy sheriff shared with us the story of four doberman pinscher dogs running loose and trerrorizing a neighborhood.
They were thinking of shooting the dogs when Jerry (answering the call on his pager, because Jerry is the pinch-hitter for the Humane Society when nobody wants to be at bat) showed up and collected all four dogs.
Anyway.
About my mother.
Did you see the movie "The Godfather" with Marlon Brando?
Do you remember Brando saying, "Make him an offer he can't refuse?"
And what happens?
The guy that refused the offer finds the head of his jillion dollar horse in his bed.
And the guy decides, belatedly, but rightfully, that he has been made an offer that he cannot refuse.
So he does what he was originally told to do, except that he no longer has his jillion dollar horse. Plus a rather untidy bedroom that nobody bu nobody wants to walk into, much less clean.
My mom is the Godmother.
When she suggests something, you have been made an offer that you cannot refuse.
And if you recognize it as an offer that you cannot refuse, you will survive childhood.
Anyway.
So, realizing that I am really talking to Marlon Brando, I say in a very pleasant way,"That's alright, ma, but seeing as how Jerry is a very special friend, he is always welcome at my home, and is apt to show up at anytime."
"So, with you not coming to see me, is it alright if I visit you once in a while at your home?"
And so a month goes by and then one day here she is, at my home, talking animatedly with Jerry.
Best of Buddies.
Go figure.
I think she bumped her head and it changed her personality.
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Saying "no", especially to loved ones, is very important.
I learn anew, continually, that If I don't say "no" to others, there will be no time for my own "yeses".
And it is alright to change your mind, and even break promises.
Oriah Mountain Dreamer in her book THE INVITATION, stressed that change is inevitable, and that relationships either grow, or they wither.
And Oriah asks the question, "Can you betray others, to be true to yourself?"
Can you?
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Two of my younger brothers, Raymond, and Richard, died last year.
Mom has taken this especially hard.
She also lost her two most constant companions and friends during the same period.
Billy Johnston and Hattie Little.
Mom has also lived with an inoperable brain tumor for several years now.
We've talked about death.
She wants my urn buried at her feet.
But I declined.
Told her I didn't want to clutter up the earth with
an urn.
Reminds me of an old fashioned night potty.
We also talked about taking the time to be together while we were alive, and because of that, no matter who died first, we would be spared any lingering remorse.
Whenever we are together, we laugh alot.
We can now tease, and laugh about ourselves, with each other.
She asks about my gardens, my health, my children, and my sex life.
Today she said, "At sunset last night, I stretched my arms out and prayed to Raymond and Richard."
This is a soul, willing to wing its way home.
Anyway.
love and light
rev bob thompson
portage, wisconsin
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