Sunday, April 29, 2012

Slightest of Details

I blogged recently on the Irony of things.  Irony is around us everyday.  Its when life stops you, like a brick wall, that you actually notice all the irony around us daily.  Outside of irony, today, I am reminded how the slightest of details make, not so slight, impacts on our lives.  Not all slight details are positive and most that are more negative are just part of life.  It doesn't make them any easier to swallow though right? Well, first things first.
On a negative note, we mothers go through life on a daily basis being mothers, doctors, nurses, maids, employees, lovers, daughters, sisters, etc.  Not to mention the one who is the keeper of the house, protector, debt payer, and the scapegoat.  We put love into each and everything we do for our families.  When a meal is prepared, for most of us, it isn't because we enjoy standing in front of the stove for an hour or more.  It is to care for our young.  To feed them and nourish the body you yourself brought to life.  The greatest love of all, your kids.  You give life to the greatest love you have ever known and spend the rest of your life caring for and worrying about the one you birthed.  From the time a mother goes into labor it is physically painful, emotionally nerve wrecking, and there are tears of joy and tears of pain shed for the hardest job she conquered which was birthing her baby.  It does not stop there, the rest of a mother's life is spent aiming to please and nursing wounds and broken hearts yet to be displeased, disrespected, and have her heart broken time and time again.  Not to worry because it is just part of the circle of life.  This is true.  But I can remember like yesterday coming in from school and work and sitting down for dinner with my family.  It was always a great meal, hot, and delicious.  I ate and enjoyed it and often thanked my mother for the meal.  There were times I never stopped to notice the slightest of detail that she put in with all the love she had for my brother and I.  Whether it was the table being set to perfection, the fact my mother insisted my family all eat together at the table, or the fact that she refilled our glasses before it ever got a chance to be empty.  I actually did notice it just failed to tell my mother I actually did notice how she worked and then still cooked for us.  There were also the days she went beyond our expectations and have a really awesome dessert.  Now that is detail my friends, she didn't have to go the extra mile and make a special treat.  Dinner was sufficient to nourish us.  The after dinner sweet was just an added bonus.  We often fall short of noticing that our moms never sit down through an entire movie, meal, or anything else for that matter.  Dad, on the other hand, was a worker and provided the smallest things that I grew up thinking was just what a man did.  Are these things just encoded on the DNA of every man? Of course they are.  They are men.....my daddy worked long hours as a welder.  Sometimes endured temperatures that were intolerable for me to lay by the pool with my friends.  He came home and mowed the yard, wash cars if needed, and took the car to the store and pumped the gas.  He made two, sometimes, three trips to put gas in my mother's car, mine, and last his own.  I never actually noticed the slight detailing on my car, or how there was never fresh cut grass on the driveway afterwards.  Well I find myself struggling with these "slight" details that go un noticed daily.  I have days that I feel like my arms and legs weigh fifty pounds each, which makes my days and nights feel as though I am fighting a strong current.  Days where my fatigue is over whelming and it is a struggle to fight the most horrible urge to lay my head down and just "rest" momentarily.  I still cook occasionally. I am not June Clever but I do my best working all day and then the nights I am on call for hospice.  Also trying to balance a personal life just to feel human and feel like I have people and events to occasionally look forward to.  That are outside the "norm."  There is a mere "joy" while finding a good nourishing meal despite a struggle to keep food in our house of six with one income.  I prepare the meal and the slight details put into the meal such as the effort to make it knowing your appetite is not going to give in and allow you to enjoy the meal before you.  Also that mother taught me not to make too many starches in the same meal but I have four children and some like mashed potatoes and some like mac and cheese.  So I prepare both.  The children turn their noses up and seem to critic every course of the meal and for each child their critics are about a different portion of the dinner that I didn't feel like making anyway.  Coming from four directions about different subjects I often feel as though I cannot really do anything right for any of them.  A mother is always the last to sit to eat and hardly ever eats a warm meal or drinks sweet tea that isn't watered down.  Because we want everyone to have what they "need" before we partake ourselves.  More times than I care to count, I have sat down to no meat left etc.  WHAT? Really, well at least my children consumed what they wanted and were pleased.  Everyone dismisses from the table and more times than not leave their plates and glasses.  And forget to say the slightest detail, "thank you mom supper was great."  Don't get me wrong, my kids know where their plates go after dinner and often thank me.  That makes mommies feel awesome.  So, from the time my kids were very young and I put notes in their lunchbox, or wrote on the inside lid of their lunch box, Have a great day I love you, mom, to present day, I know they love me and are thankful but forget my slight details.  No need for mothers to get discouraged it happens. Being the one in the family that meets the needs of the household, picks everyone up when they fall, lets them learn from their mistakes, and loves them on their worst days.  Loves them when they embarrass us, hurt us, and disappoint us.  Loves them when they make us so proud it brings us to tears.  I am human and have a strong desire for the people I love the most to thank me, love me, and appreciate me.  However, I once was the one that didn't do it everyday either.  As we age we realize and often make up for lost time thanking our parents for things that they did our entire lives.  We, as parents, also often fall short of noticing slight details.  When our children bring us the 500th drawing within a one hour period, we often accept it with a sigh and smile and say, "why thank you it is beautiful."  But often we place it aside and barely glance.  Take the time to look and talk about it, you notice a spark in your childrens' eyes and you too after studying the art will notice things that are amazing.  Things, somedays, you needed to see.  Sometimes it is a young child's way of paying attention to the "Slightest of Details."

No comments:

Post a Comment