Never Grow Up While You Grow Old - Day 7

With the sun’s setting rays, I noticed the bare mountains had an angelic glow to them. They were God’s perfection, and apparently I was God’s disaster. I was about ten years old and I had just come home from my friend Michelle’s home. Michelle’s father caught us in the act and sent me home on the caveat that I needed to tell my mother what I had done and if I didn’t, he would make sure he did. So I found myself sitting on the front porch with my mother and a large bowl of grapes. For a while, we sat in silence and watched the sun play hide-and-seek with the mountains. She looked content eating her grapes while I began to tell her exactly what had happened. Finally, as I finished my confession, I took a quick glance of my mother’s face to check the severity of my pending punishment. Oddly enough, my mother kept popping grapes in her mouth with a semi-hidden grin. Within a minute, the grin had stretched wider and she threw back her head in laughter and reminiscently said, “Yeah. That’s fun huh? I use to do that all the time with my brothers.” My shameful eyebrows woke up in shock. She continued, “Hey, want a grape?” We sat there as the sun set—just my mother and me. Together we talked and came to the conclusion that prank calling probably wasn't very nice; after which, she hugged me tight and told me she was proud of me for talking to her. She also told me she was proud to be my mother.

I love telling this experience because it shows the sweetness and playfulness of my mother. Her philosophy always seemed to somewhat match Peter Pan’s. Although we grew and matured as children, my mother taught us to pack Neverland with us wherever we went. Her motto was work hard so we could play hard. In essence, her motto was making memories. Every morning, she would walk us to elementary school and we would often sing songs on the way or make up stories. As teenagers, when she was the carpool driver, she let us choose our favorite tapes and let us listen to them on our way to school. She even jokingly sang along to Backstreet Boys even though she couldn’t stand to listen to them. Because she was so fun and playful, she was easy to approach, and I always felt like I had a special bond with her. In High School, she gave me my space. However, my friends and I loved to spend time with my mom so we often chose to hang out around my house and play games with her. Sometimes as a group of friends, we would sit on her bed and just talk to her about the importance of life and the gospel. Oftentimes my friends would tell me, “Your mom is amazing. You are so blessed to have her for a mother.” And they were right. I was significantly blessed.

My mother is one of those people who beam with confidence in their faith. Even though she has buried her husband for a time, she always points out that he is still very much with her and waiting for her to complete her journey on this earth. Her courage is inspirational to me and to many around her. Along with that inspiration is my mother's incredible wisdom. She knows just what to say to me and how to comfort me when I go to her with concerns and doubts.She often reminds me of C.S. Lewis with the depth and breadth of her christian knowledge. She truly amazes me. Now that I have little M, I hope that I will be able to continue my mother’s incredible legacy.

Mom, I love you deeply. Thank you for being an example of insurmountable faith and courage, and thank you for being the world's greatest Peter Pan. I'll continue to never grow up while I grow old with you. Thank you for teaching me how to learn, love, and forgive. Thank you for being my wonderful Mom.