Not all of us may have the role of motherhood, but we all have a mother. She may still be living or already dead, and our memories of her might be fond or indifferent. But, no matter how we remember our mothers, or how we relate to their presence or absence, their influence in our lives is worth our consideration. 

Impact

Unlike my relationship with my dad, my connection with Mom was never a close one nor on an emotional level. While Dad gave me his undivided personal attention and affection, Mom was more concerned about whether or not I used my manners or that the clothes I wore matched.  

Maybe Dad had the luxury of having more time to spend with his children than Mom. After all, Motherhood requires an immense amount of time and energy. As the old adage goes; “A man may work from dusk to dawn, but a woman’s work is never done.”

Though I don’t ever remember having her one-on-one attention or affection, she still impacted my life, indirectly and from a distance. 

The only time she was ever idle was in her sleep. The rest of the time, she was constantly on the run. She had an immense amount of energy and used it in charitable ways. Though Grandma and my aunts all enjoyed keeping their homes and families as the center of their lives, Mom seemed to need a larger mission field than the one under her own roof. 

She had a whole route of elderly and shut-ins that she visited on a regular basis. And counted them as her friends. She’d take leftovers from our table to theirs or pick up a few things from the store that they might need. One woman, a blind widow, was frequently shuttled to our house for dinner.  

As a kid I often wondered why Mom seemed to have more compassion for elderly shut ins than she seemed to have for me. Now I understand that she broadened her borders to include others whom she saw as having needs she could meet. 

Unlike my aunts and Grandma, who never learned to drive and instead relied on their husbands and public transportation to take them wherever they needed to go, Mom drove herself. 

Driving was one of Mom’s means to independence. She did not have to wait for Dad to take her somewhere. She simply got into the car, backed down the driveway and went on her way. 

 Though I never enjoyed riding in the car when she drove because her driving scared me, the fact that she had her driver’s license and was more independent than the other female relatives in my family left an impression on me. She was an unrestrained individual. 

Grandma shared with me more than once that, “It’s a man’s world.” Mom on the other hand, never seemed to buy into that philosophy. Instead, she lived according to her own beliefs, one uninhibited by the constraints of raising kids and keeping house. 

My husband once said to me, “As tumultuous as your relationship was with your mother, you inherited her genes.” He is right. 

Why bother considering a mother’s influence? Every mother influences her children. Considering the good their influence has had in our lives may take a lifetime.