When I was a kid I used to play around a lot and would usually get into trouble. As punishment, I was almost always grounded to cleaning the kitchen. I am from a family of eleven kids, so cleaning the kitchen at our house was pretty much the equivalent of cleaning up after Thanksgiving dinner. Every. Single. Night. I was grounded to the kitchen A LOT (so much so that I can't stand cleaning the kitchen now) and so became quite familiar with the objects that my mom decorated the kitchen with. There were two plaques hanging on the wall that I memorized...and not because I had to or even wanted to. I'm telling you! I was ground to the kitchen a lot!! I would read those plaques every time I wiped the counter, or dried the dishes, or washed the dishes (no dishwasher for us back then), or put the food away, or swept the floor. OK. I think you get the idea.
One of the plaques I thought was nice, but the other one I always had a hard time with. The first plaque had a little poem on it that said "I can paint and when I do the moments problems are forgotten. And the joy of a single flower blooms before me." Next to the poem was a little hand painted picture of a daisy. That was sweet, I thought. The next plaque always gave me the hardest time and I often felt like it was mocking me. This is what it said:
Mother
To one who bears the sweetest name
And adds a luster to the same
Who shares my joys, who cheers when sad
The greatest friend I've ever had
Long life to her for there's no other
Who could take the place of my dear mother.
Since my mom was the one to ground me to the kitchen, I always thought she hung that plaque in there to taunt me. There was that little plaque, mocking me and trying to make me think that my mother was so sweet when she was the one who grounded me to the kitchen in the first place. Even when we moved to a new house (which was quite frequently) she still hung that plaque up in the kitchen.
As a kid I wanted to break the plaque in half and throw it away. However, as an adult I can look at it now and see that it really does hold true. "Mother" does have the sweetest name. It's the name I think of when I'm not feeling well, or when I'm alone and scared. It's a name that comes to mind when I hear a talk in church, read an article, or hear a song that I know she would like. It's a name I bring to mind when I've been gone from her for a long time and I want to just be around her again.
She has shared pretty much all my joys from my life. She was there after prom asking me how everything went and wanting to know all the details. She was there when I received my mission call and went to the temple. She was there when I told her I was going to spend the summer in New York. She was there when James and I started dating, when we got engaged, and when we got married. She has been there for the big things, and the little things that have brought me joy in my life.
She has also cheered me when I was sad. She cheered me up when I was having issues with a co-worker. She cheered me up when I lost my job a few years ago. She gave me her shoulder to cry on when my struggles with my health turned out to be too much. She brought me soup and Gatorade after surgery, then watched movies with me in my cold, dark apartment. She cheered me up when I was stressed, tired, and feeling like the world was coming to an end.
Yes, I do wish long life to her because I like having her around. I know we butt heads a lot because we are a lot alike, and I know that sometimes we need breaks from each other, but I do love my mother. There are so many things she has taught me, and so many things we have gone through that just wouldn't be the same had I gone through them with someone else. I love you, mom.
1 comment:
I remember those days and I still have that plate. It was a gift from Grandmother Bartholomew. The plate belonged to her mother and I would always read it when I entered Grandma Probst kitchen. I was given the plate after Grandma Probst passed away from Grandma Bartholomew and I hung it in my kitchen to always remember Grandma Probst and the sweet woman she was. I loved the idea that you kindled a memory I had not thought about for so many years. Thank you and know that the punishment was never to make you feel bad or have you read the plate and feel as if you were being mocked. I love you so much and am so amazed by the tribute you have written to me, it has made me cry each time I have read it. I love you and I thank you for being my daughter.
Love
Mean Mom Zufelt
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