I never wondered if my mother wanted to be a mother.
Growing up I heard over and over how much my parents wanted children and how they were told by multiple doctors they would never have any. After four long years of tears and struggle, magically, miraculously, my mom became pregnant with me.
I have been waiting 5 years now for my magical miraculous and I am starting to think that it may not be coming.
When she was alive and we would talk about my infertility my mother would say "doctors don't know everything." Well, I just finished sitting through my 10th married mother's day sacrament meeting. I cried through the primary's rendition of "Mother I love you" and I obligatorily stood up at the end of the meeting to receive my token with all the other women in the ward (Dove Chocolate pieces in a small bag.) and I can't stop myself from wondering, where is my miracle?
Andy and I recently plunked down a significant amount of money to go see a doctor who told us there was 25% chance we could be pregnant in 90 days. If I was willing to undergo their procedures, take their drugs, and pay the fees associated. She said we could trick my body into getting pregnant she couldn't promise I would stay pregnant, but they could make me pregnant.
I felt hopeful for the first time in years! A doctor thought I could get pregnant! It would be expensive, and invasive, but I could get pregnant.
It was at that moment I wished I could talk to my mom more than I had at anytime since she passed away. I wanted to talk to my mom, a person who would understand what it is like to desire a child and be denied time and time again. Oh, how I missed her then! How I longed to talk to her one more time!
It seems lately, I am being haunted by her; I made her cheesecake the other day and I could have sworn she was with me in my kitchen. It made me start thinking about who my mom was.
She was the woman who was there whenever I needed her. She healed scrapes, bruises and more than once a broken heart. She baked amazing cookies, cheesecake, and banana bread. She never used a recipe, she knew them by heart. She was cultured, she had traveled, she was educated, and intelligent. She told me she always wanted to be a Mom.
She played the piano, she sang, and she loved music of all kinds and taught us to love it too. She sang in the community version of the Messiah every year for as long as I can remember. She was the only person I ever knew who knew all the Hymns by heart.
Many a family road trip soundtrack included Ray Stevens, John Denver, and The Irish Rovers. It was not rare in our house to burst into a show tune song at the least provocation. I thought everyone did that.
She made the best potato salad, and loved hosting BBQ events from her patio. She loved reading Better Homes and Gardens and trying out new recipes. She was fearless and famous in the kitchen.
Oh, and could she sew! I had some of the nicest dance dresses growing up because she made them for me. She made outfits, pj's, play clothes and more than a few school play costumes as well as Barbie clothes.
I had the privilege of spending the most important day of my life wearing the wedding dress she made for me. I will always treasure the memory of people commenting on the beauty and craftsmanship of my dress as they came down our receiving line. She crocheted and quilted countless blankets over the years for family and friends, in fact she was working on one when she died. She did cross stitch, embroidery, and she knit.
She was the best Trivial Pursuit player this world has ever seen. She remembered everything about everything. She was a die hard fan of the Atlanta Braves, Utah Jazz, and the Uintah High School marching band. She was proud to be an Army mom. She was proud to be an American. She was member of DAR and the DUP. She knew everything about the British Royal family and could explain the reason for all their pomp and circumstance. She relished Traditions.
She was a woman of Faith. She loved the Lord and her Family and gave them all she had to give. She taught me service because she gave service. She knew the scriptures by heart, taught amazing Relief Society lessons, and quietly assisted countless sisters as they worshiped at the Vernal temple. She knew all about genealogy and when she talked about our ancestors it was like she actually knew and loved them. She was proud of our heritage.
She sacrificed new shoes, hairdos, and never having a new car, so we could have letter jackets, uniforms, and all the other things teenage kids seem need. I never heard her complain. She was a hard worker, at times working two jobs to make ends meet.
She faithfully planted a garden year after year which never seemed to yield anything other than weeds and green beans. Yet she persevered. I suspect because she was not raising a garden, she was raising four children who needed something to weed.
She was there the day I graduated from Uintah, Utah State University, (twice), and held my hand at Primary Children's when I had life changing neurosurgery at 15. She drove me to Salt Lake every six months from the age of 15 till I turned 18. I always remember those trips with fondness, she made them so fun. She held my hand again in Aug. 2011 two weeks before she died, reassuring me that everything was going to be just fine. She was the first person I saw when I crossed the veil in the temple for the first time.
She loved Olive Garden, JoAnn's fabric, and the Distribution center and she was a big fan of Walmart and the Dollar Store. She loved the deal and she could coupon with the best of them. (She was the best of them.) Carnations were her favorite flower. She loved my Dad and we all knew it.
She was my Aunt Becky's best friend, and she could never understand why Alicia and I could not get along while we were growing up. She made us sing Love at Home when we were mad at each other and she constantly admonished us to "try and get a long." and reminded us she wanted "no empty chairs."
I never met a woman more excited to become a Grandma than she was when Alicia found out she was pregnant with Stephanie. She relished being Grandma Southam and loved spending time with all her grand kids.
She taught me modesty, manners, and culture. She encouraged me, and inspired me. I still walk in her shadow even today, and she's been gone almost two years.
If you knew her you were changed by her, you couldn't help it, it was who she was.
She was many things to many people, but to me she will always be Mom.
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