A Song for Mothers
For my mother…
When I was a teenager my Mom went back to school to become a hospital chaplain.
In between working as an ICU nurse and making dinner for me and my brothers, my Mom would sit at the dining room table writing her class papers on a pad of lined paper. Then, after editing them by hand, she would begin typing them out on an old manual typewriter that she had picked up at a garage sale. This thing was classic! It was faded blue & creamy beige and the strikers (those long metal bars with letters on the end) would get stuck together if you typed too fast. Eventually she was given an ELECTRIC typewriter which we all thought was incredibly fancy.
Now I'm going to pause for a minute here just to mention that I did NOT grow up in the 1950’s. It was the 90’s, and although computers were not as commonplace as they are now, they certainly existed. We were just THAT family. You know, the one that had a black and white tv 50 years after colour tv was invented… and only got a VHS player when everyone else was watching DVDs. (Millennials just google “90’s stuff that doesn’t exist anymore”)
There’s little-to-no room for error on a typewriter. Without an “undo” button, or “cut and paste” you really had to get it right the first time. Even simple spelling errors meant opening up the white-out and going over it again, or worse, re-typing the entire page. The fancy electric one was better. You could go back and erase a single line, but it still meant taking your time and making sure everything was exactly how you wanted it to be before moving forward.
No pressure! HA!
This is how my Mom completed her masters. I watched as she poured herself into her work, and meticulously crafted each paper with care. There were a lot of tears and intense conversations as she stretched her thinking and dove into Theology school. Her ideas of God, and faith, and church all opened up with new and creative understandings. And in the process SHE opened up. My Mother was growing right in front of me… and it was tough, courageous, and beautiful!
I’m a mother now and I can’t help but think, looking back on this memory, that my Mom wasn’t just the student but she was also the teacher.
My teacher.
Showing me what it looks like to be a good parent and a good human being. She was showing up, improving herself and her life so that she (and we) could have the best possible future… and the best possible Mother.
So here I am writing this down on lined paper just like my Mom at the dining room table. Scratching out the mistakes and trying my best to show-up. I will eventually type this out (on an actual COMPUTER!!!) and share it with the world. And I will, like my Mom, always be growing! Always be stretching and reaching and pushing myself to be better - not just for me but also for my child, my community and our future.
I love you Mom. Thanks for everything you’ve given me. This song is for you.
Xo Amanda
