Say Anything Blog

For some reason when I think of this scriptural reference to what love is, I often associate it on earth with my mom and the love of a mother for a son, which I see daily in the eyes of my wife and our children. As much as I love my children I’m resolved to how the connection between a child and the giver of life is. And maybe that’s an intentional connection? I don’t know for certain, but it’s very obvious in my daily observation between mothers and their children.

I could write an endless and unintentionally omissive account of my mom’s love for me but for Mothers Day of 2008 as I look back over three and half decades of love from my mother I cherish some of the little things much more than I’d have ever imagined at the time. And I venture to say when I’ve brought some of these little memories of love up with my mom, she’s a bit surprised as to what sticks out in the relationship between a mother and now grown son.

As a school aged kid in LaMoure I fondly recall the first and last day of school each year and Mom treating me to a special snack at the Omega Cafe. In fact I really can’t even relate exactly what or when it occurred, except that it was a special time of just me and Mom. We’d sit at the round table in the corner and maybe visit with some friends passing by and the smile on my face was only half was wide as the smile in my heart of spending a special, precious break with Mom. It wasn’t a steak dinner, or double fudge ice cream sundae, most often it was a cookie or pastry of some sort, but that was simply just on the plate to eat, not what was feeding the heart.

As I grew older and I picked up my first job delivering newspapers and our home was on top of a hill with the route down below. For a teen age kid lugging papers in the wee morning hours it may as well have been Mt Everest not to mention winters and bulky Sunday and Wednesday papers loaded with extra advertisement and sections. Sunday papers were especially intimidating, inserting the comics and flyer’s into the body of the paper took extra time and of returning multiple times to the house as I could only carry about ten of the bulk Sunday edition papers each trip. Again, I know it didn’t happen each and every week, but more often than not, my loving mom would arise with me and help--inserting, delivering, and some special occasions such as blizzard or rain, Mom would drive me. And other times when I returned home, the smell of fried sausage and my favorite scrambled eggs and hash browns would fill the morning as my work day was ending at 6:30AM. Indeed, these are very special memories for me.My parents took us on trips to the Rocky Mountains, Disneyworld, Viking and Twin games and more. But this old kids memory is peppered with more of those little things even though I vividly recall many other family excursions.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

The love patience, kindness and tenderness my mom has shown to me was evident throughout life. As with any of us there were plenty of opportunities for my actions to cause shame to my mom or make her wonder “just what was he thinking” But what she may have thought on the inside was overcome by the love of a mother on the outside.  I’m sure there were a few (many) times then and even now my actions probably (did?) give my mother pause to wonder, but the pause was always blanketed by the love of mom, looking past the mistakes and giving me a bug hug as if to squeeze the trouble right on out of me.

As life changed and I moved onto college the week of finals was always greeted with a special set of ‘gifts’ and even more special were the notes of encouragement and love with which each gift was wrapped. No they weren’t worldy gifts such as CD’s, or money. They were better, much better and as the years pass on I think even more highly of how wrapping her love was the best gift of all. Love in a few baked cookies, a box of my favorite cheese crackers or a candy bar. Sure they were perfect finals, cram session, brain food, but more than any food or gift it was another little sign of how big the love of my mom was for me. It was her thinking, praying and hoping for the best for her son that was more than any material gift.

And don’t think as this kid grows with his own family the love of his mother is any less visible. When a fall hunting trip or weekday business trip provides an opportunity to stop and visit Mom, I’m often greeted by a pot of my favorite porcupine meatballs or sausage and eggs. But beyond filling the tummy of this old kid, indeed the love of Mom is served up and even more enjoyable.

... it does not seek it’s own interest....