One of the things that has come with age, is understanding the limits of my own understanding. The age old adage that, 'you don't know what you don't know', is quite true.
Ah,,,, to be as sure, and as certain of my beliefs as I was when I was 17, or 27, or 37. For those who have never seen a picture of the Dunning Kruger Effect, it really is a great illustration of my life. Whenever I think I truly understand something these days, I look at where I could be wrong, or try to find another way to understand the issue. I've been wrong about many things, and I hate being wrong.
As sure as I have been about certain things, parenting was never something I though I had a good grasp on. I'm not sure how anyone could. Maybe if you had 9 or 10 children, you could make a decent determination that, by that 10th child, you've seen just about everything.
You would be wrong, but you might have that thought rolling around upstairs. Parenting is extremely difficult, extremely frustrating, extremely exhausting, and also the best damn thing you might ever experience in 100 lifetimes.
One of the things that helped me raise my children was the parenting I received as a child from my mother. My mom is a special person. All moms are special, as I'm sure you imagine yours to be. My mom is special in some particular ways.
If you know my story, you know I've written about my father a few times. He was special too. I always say he, was a cross between John Wayne and Donald Trump. That is pretty accurate. My mom is harder to define. She is quite complex.
If I had to describe my mom to someone (of my age) who has never met her, I would say she is a combination of Carol Brady from the Brady Bunch, and Kitty Forman from That 70's Show.
My mom is full of life. If I pulled into her driveway today in North Idaho and said, "Let's go down to the bar and have a beer." She would grab her keys and go. If I pulled in and told her I was going through a really rough time in my life, and asked if she any advice, she would sit me down and talk for hours about the best way she thought I could get back on track. Her advice is something I still value.
My mom always thought of life as an adventure. Boy, did we have one growing up. How she raised my sister and I to be fairly good kids, all the while living through the 18 chapter Greek tragedy that was life with my father, is a remarkable feat.
Hats off to my sister Lisa for being the well behaved, great student, and the one child mom never really had to wonder what trouble they were getting into. If she had two of me, on top of dealing with our father, I'm not sure anyone could take that excitement and adventure.
Mom was soothing, she still is. Her way of quieting her voice down, and showing us her love and understanding, was something I tried to do with my own kids. I remember always feeling better after I was done talking with my mom, no matter what had just happened.
I'm almost certain I failed in this with my kids, because I am a man. I have that 'fixer' mentality. I don't engage very well with the 'just be there and tell them you love them' part of parenting. I want to give them a three piece plan to 'fix' their problem. Look back up at that drawing and see if that makes more sense now.
My mom was rarely angry at me, and believe me when I say I did a mountain of things to make any parent angry. However, when she was angry it was spectacular. I remember her breaking a wooden spoon on my butt one day and me laughing.
The only thing that really scared me was when she brought the handmade, braided leather riding quirt down off the fridge. That thing meant business, and it would never break. I don't think I ever got a hard smack with the quirt. She just got it down and started chasing me, and the bad behavior was at an end.
It still makes me laugh to this day, in my mind, seeing mom chasing after me with her braided quirt. Ah, good times.
So this Mother's Day, I would like to send some love to my mom Alice up in the hinterlands of North Idaho. I wish I was coming up there to see you soon. We are heading out East to visit Abbie in South Carolina, and I know, being a mom, you will understand. We will get back up there to see you guys sometime this year.
I just wanted to say thank you for everything you taught me. Everything it may have taken me decades, and many, many mistakes to see and correct. Thank you for every kind work, every warm embrace, and every prayer sent out with me and my family in mind, even when we had no idea. Thank you for being who you are.
I love you dearly,,
Your son,
Walt
