Published in the Houston Chronicle Newspaper Mother’s Day 05/14/00

 Someday You’ll Thank Me

When my mom reminded me of the latest rule, shared her expert advice, or shouted an urgent warning, she always added, Someday you’ll thank me.  Even though I pretended not to listen, I did hear her. And now I find myself repeating her orders, rules, and life lessons to my children. 

Mom’s Everyday Orders:  Eat your breakfast, you need to feed your brain. Science backs her up. Don’t sleep your life away.  It seemed like she especially loved to wake me up after I had had a late date. Mom thought it important to get the early worm (or something like that). Turn on a light when you read or you’ll ruin your eyes. I now wear glasses. Wear a bra so you don’t sag.  No comment.  Don’t talk back and always respect your elders.  She repeated those two rules many times while I was a teenager. Drink your milk. Wash your hands. Stand up straight. Remember to smile.

Mom’s Dating Advice: I wondered how my mom could possibly know anything about dating—let alone, give advice.  Take a dime for a phone call.  Now I advise my children to take their cell phones. Learn to drive a stick shift car.  Someday you may need to drive one home.   That advice came in handy one night, but I’ll never tell my mom.   It would not make her happy.  Don’t call a boy on the telephone and don’t kiss him on the first date.  Sometimes I had to ignore Mom’s advice.  It just didn’t seem practical.  Be careful who you go out with.  You can control who you date but not who you fall in love with. I fell in love on my first date with a sixteen-year-old at a time when we were both very young and almost worthless.  We married in our early 20’s and he later became a successful businessman…I am the luckiest person I know.

Mom’s Social Rules:  Don’t chew with your mouth open and don’t talk with your mouth full. Sit like a lady. Act like a lady. Whatever that meant.  Talk like a lady. I knew what that meant.   Don’t spit, don’t smoke, don’t drink, and don’t chew gum in public. Appearances were important.  Never say ain’t.  Mom was devastated when “ain’t” appeared in the dictionary.  Always write a thank you note. A rule that I thought bordered on cruel and unusual punishment.  As a child, I pouted, moaned, and procrastinated, but I did write those notes. I didn’t want Mom to take away my presents.

Mom’s “In the event that…” Warnings:  Learn to type.  I do type on the computer.  To my surprise, Mom was a progressive thinker.  Wear clean underwear in case you end up in the emergency room.  I went to the emergency room last winter, Mom would be proud.  Don’t frown, it does terrible things to your face.  Wrinkles at age fifty prove her point.  Brush your teeth, they have to last you a lifetime.  So far, so good.  Don’t tease your brother, you may need him some day. My brother is now a Highway Patrolman; I should have been nicer. Always wear your seat belt.  Mom had seat belts installed in my boyfriend’s 1960 Chevy.  Soon after that, we were in an accident.  If I had not been wearing a seat belt I would have been thrown through the windshield.  How did she know?

            Mom’s Errant Thoughts: She couldn’t be right all the time. Finish your supper. Not one of her finest moments, but she meant well.  You are beautiful.  I’m not beautiful, but her opinion helped me when I felt particularly ugly.  Eat your brussel sprouts.  Even now that they are thought to prevent cancer, I still refuse to eat them. Keep your money in the bank, not in the stock market.  How could she know!

            Mom’s Life Lessons: Lessons she preached and lived every day. Love yourself so you can love someone else. Do your best. I confess I could have tried harder in math class.  Help other people.  At eighty years old, Mom still drives cancer sufferers to treatment centers.  Don’t compromise your soul for anyone, including your children. Excuse yourself if you make a mistake, apologize if you are in the wrong. Go to church.  I do.  Go to college.  I went.  Go after your dreams.  I did.

And, as she reminded me of her rules, warnings, and advice, she always hugged me and said, You know I love you.

I love you too, Mom and thanks.