Happy mother’s day for all mothers who have truly invested in their children, whether biological or not. I wrote this for my mother in 2005. It still resonates today:
Dear Mom,
I was thinking of some of the major ways you have impacted my life—things like my values, the importance of faith and family, responsibility, and compassion.
The reality, however, is that the little things you did or said, during my childhood and youth are what had the biggest impact on me.
Stability comes to mind first. Dinner was always at 6 pm sharp—and if we were late, we got a glass of milk. After dinner playing with friends lasted until the street lights turned on. Weekly allowances included lunch money, and Sundays were always reserved for church.
The routine of family life brought stability and security. To this day, the kids and I still eat dinner at 6 pm, and I make sure the kids get their allowances on time. (I still have to explain why we always eat at 6 pm.)
I also saw respect exemplified. Our housekeeper was not “the help”, she was a family friend. I remember always seeing you sit down with her in the family room talking about life--her life and yours. That image resonates with my life today—whether I’m talking to a homeless person or to a CEO, I see them as a person rather than what socio-economic class they come from.
I still remember the first Bible you bought me—a paperback Living Bible. And my first bicycle, a purple sting-ray.
My favorite food is meatloaf and mash potatoes. Why? Because you had to cook that every month for the church’s confirmation class potlucks. But to this day it is my comfort food.
And food is what you provided me to help me keep connected to my cultural Asian roots… For years, every morning I woke up to the smell of a pot of Uncle Ben’s white rice filled with butter. I loved that breakfast, but didn’t really grasp the significance of why you cooked it for me until I was an adult.
To this day, my Asian friends think I’m weird for putting butter on white rice, until they hear my story of why I do it. (And you probably don’t remember, but while eating one of my bowls of rice, you told me about the facts of life…)
I remember when I got my driver’s license you sat me down to make sure I understood that driving this “big machine” takes responsibility. And that I need to be very careful while I’m on the road. You probably don’t remember, but you also taught me how to park away from other cars in case they might ding my car—I guess you sensed correctly that I would have a life-long love for cars.
Now, after being a single parent myself, I look back in awe on your commitment to raising five children (all very different) on your own. Sometimes it feels like our up-raising was sort of a sit-com show—single mom raising five children in a big house. The stories we could tell could fill a teleplay.
Other times, however, I’m amazed at the sacrifice you made to make sure all five of your children were loved, healthy, and successful. The worrying, the ulcers, the hard work, paid off.
The old adage—you are what you eat—is wrong. It is not what we eat.
I am who I am, because of who raised me.
Thank you for investing in me. For loving me, for providing security and routine. For teaching me respect and responsibility. For being my mother when I didn’t have one at birth.
Today, I am paying forward your investment in me, by investing in others—in my children and in people of need.
I am who I am, because of you.
I love you,
Joel
Comments (1)
that is such a beautiful letter!