Sunday, May 8, 2011

Ode to my Momma.

Truth be known, I'm a daddy's girl. Ask my Mom--she knows.
Mom grew up on the farm, one of the middle kids of 12. I'm not sure if the Lord made her a strong, practical woman on purpose...but I can't imagine she had much choice. I wish I had a picture of her as a girl--she's the cutest of those Yosten girls, as I'm sure my Dad would agree. Sweet and blond; a smile that still is that combination of clever and sweet and mischievous.

Though I am absolutely positive that my Mom was thrilled beyond belief the day I was born...I also know that in her heart, and even more so after 3 subsequent boys, that she believed I would be best served by a strong, practical Mother.

I remember as a girl,
I was expected to help Mom in the house. I don't think that she ever felt sorry for me--those times that I perceived my brothers running free, brown and naked as Indians...and her and I, butting heads, me not realizing that she was teaching me skills that I'd need later in life.
Though Mom? I have NEVER needed to kill and pluck my own chicken.

Mom never let me skip school when I 'didn't feel well'. She'd turn right around and pick me back up later in the day--but I was always expected to get up, get dressed and move on.

Mom made me get jobs. She expected me to ride my bike to those jobs. She also made me pay for half the bike.
Mom's method for dealing with most every pain and heartache was to 'move on with life'. To 'get to work'. Heck. Seemed to me like this always meant cleaning something!

My Mom's practicality--her determination that I would NOT be spoiled, that I would KNOW how to work, that I would be bright and love to learn didn't always feel like love to me.

I am sure my Mom never imagined the very hard experiences I'd face later in life. Though I'm sure she would have loved to 'fix' those experiences...they were my hardships to face.

Instead, she has always been the one by my side--the one whispering YOU CAN DO THIS. You can get through this. Try harder, Kore. Be brave Kore. Depend on God, Kore. If she cried or was afraid for me, she never showed it.

See--here's the real story. MY God, my good, good God gave me just the kind of Momma I would need.
A strong, practical Mom.



I love you Mom. Thanks for helping me become the woman I'm proud to be.

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