What good advice did your mama give you? How much of it did you heed? Yeah, me too.
The earliest advice from my mom that I can recall, came at age four. “Never learn to milk the cow.” I don’t know how she knew this; she was a city import. Hints from neighbors maybe. None of those women milked, and back then every ranch had a milk cow or two, even some folks in small towns. Disobedience came easy to me so I immediately followed Dad to the barn and got him to teach me to milk the cow.
I was pretty proud of being helpful, and kind of enjoyed the chore. In later life, it was often the only time of day I got to sit down and have nobody bothering me. On the other hand, I was dumb enough to tell my children’s father that I could milk so he tended to stay late at a farm sale or some other monkey business, with the assurance that chores would have been done when he got around to coming home. During haying season, I got excused from rake duty early so I could wrangle the cows and milk before starting supper. He thought he was doing me a favor, and on the nights when I had time to shower before cooking, I did too.
Mom was fond of the usual mantras, birds of a feather, clean underwear, don’t toot your own horn, and all that, but she had high standards. “If you can’t say anything nice then don’t say anything.” Some lasting regrets come from ignoring that, but I’m getting better after seeing the damage done by hurtful political speech and social media. She was big on never hurting anyone’s feelings with comments about their clothing or physical features. “Even if the dress is awful, you can say you like the sleeves or the material it’s made of.” “If they’re overweight, tell them their hair looks nice.” I’m wired for creativity, so that challenge was easily met.
The back side of the kindness coin was that I never learned to stand up for myself. There were times I should have gotten up on my hind legs when it was obvious that controlling and verbal abuse was involved. I’ve gotten better at that too. It’s better to be happy than right, but sometimes right needs to take precedence. Mom was right in one sense; it’s possible to disagree without being hurtful and mean.
I probably gave my share of advice when the kids were young but I do recall telling one after he was grown, that I’d give my opinion if asked, otherwise my lips were sealed. “So don’t ask unless you want a straight answer.” I’ve noticed that they seldom ask, and am ok with that.
In spite of the motherly wisdom, ignored or otherwise, I’m grateful that she cared enough to nag, and later gave me the dignity to make my own mistakes and learn from them. But I believe my kids have picked up on something. One of them gave me a dish towel that says, “OMG, my mother was right about everything.” From my daughter, a small plaque that shows a young woman, head in hands, saying, “I wonder what else my mother was right about.” I still wonder that myself from time to time, but I’m sure more will be revealed.
Meet me here next week and meanwhile do your best to mind your mom. Somebody might like it; she surely will.