Did I make her proud?

I could tell when she wasn't happy, I could tell when she didn't like my decisions.  I could tell when she was disappointed, but over all, did I make her proud?

When Tom and I announced our engagement, I think we shocked her a bit.  She suddenly saw what I didn't even know enough to see.  She knew that a military husband would take me away, away from everything I knew and her.  I was too in love to see that.  She saw that clearly, and in hindsight, I saw the realization in her eyes.

But she loved me and wanted me to be happy, follow my dreams and follow my love. After all, she did.  She followed her military man to Fort Knox, Kentucky during the Korean war and I know she was the sweetest little military wife in the world.  She washed and ironed his shirts to perfection, learned the ways of the Army and gave birth to my brother in a military hospital without any "help" for the pain of childbirth.  She joined her neighbors for social fun, cared for her baby girl Laurie and supported Dad.

As a military wife I didn't iron shirts.  We had a baby in a military hospital and I did it without medication, just like Mom.  We did the whole socializing bit and she loved to hear about our adventures.  I love to tell her about my military volunteer efforts and I think that made her proud. We shared the military wife gig.  She was a military wife. She was my Mom. She was. She was. I am so proud and I love because she loved me and taught me to love.
She loved with the joy of the Lord.

She loved without apology. 
She loved with the knowledge of salvation.
We shared a faith born of Love. 

 The Valentine

The dust motes floated in the sunlight that streamed in the east windows of the old farmhouse on that sunny, bitterly cold February morning. I stood on the large furnace floor grate and absorbed the warmth of the heat rising up all around me. Staring through the heat waves made everything beyond appear wavy and distorted. The grate appeared to be moving under my feet and completely captured my attention. It was a fascinating optical illusion and the warmth felt so good.  

I had just gotten dressed and eaten hot buttered toast before assuming my place on the furnace grate. It was the prime location where we kids all stood, warmed up, and waited for each other in the cold winter months.  The rising heat would fill my pant legs and force its way up my sleeves completely removing the winter chill. My feet would get so warm I'd have to step off the furnace to keep them from burning in my winter boots.  I was thoroughly warm, in fact toasty. Mom had gotten me ready for Sunday School first as I was the youngest at 6 years old. Next she would go upstairs and encourage the older kids to get out of their pajamas, get dressed, grab a bite to eat, don their coats, mittens and hats, hop in the car and off we'd go to Sunday School with Dad behind the wheel. 

But before she started up the stairs, Mom paused from her busy morning and handed me a precious little red plastic heart with conversation valentine candy inside. She was clearly occupied with tasks running through her brain but she hugged me quick and said, "This is for you. Happy Valentine's Day!" 

At first I didn't know what my Mom had given me, but through the clear plastic lid I could see colorful candies with words on them. As excited as I was at the thought of eating those sweet candies, I was more excited with the moment, the gift, and knowing it was mine. Although I knew about paper Valentines cards, I was unused to Valentine's Day gifts and was filled with gratitude and probably greed as I recognized that those candies were just for me. I'm confident Mom had a little heart with candy for each of her four kids, but in that moment, nothing existed except me, Mom and the little plastic heart loaded with sweetness. 

I can't recall if I ate a candy before Sunday School or not. In fact, I don't remember anything else about that day except how special I felt in that one moment. Mom gave me a sweet little heart that day, and since the first time my heart recognized the beat of hers, she has loved me. I'll always have that joy. 

Thanks Mom. Happy Valentine's Day.