My role model.

I feel that the person that I try to model the most in my life is my mother. She gave birth to 8 children with 5 being girls and 3 boys. And of those eight there were two sets of twins, me being half of one of those sets. She never showed favoritism toward any of her children and was fare to all, even though we did our part to try her in every way possible. To say the least we were bad when we thought we could get away with it. We all had our chores and she rotated it around so that we all had an equal dose of whatever there was to go around. But as we grew, there was never a time that she didn't have an ear for us to fill with what bothered us. There was always a warm meal to sit around the table and recount the events of the day. And of course, a shoulder to cry on, if needed. And a refrigerator full of school pictures that we did just for her.

Whenever we all went somewhere, others bragged to my mom at how well behaved we all were and that we had such good manners. That didn't mean much to me then, but as I got older, it seemed to be such a good compliment to my mother. I have people now ask me not to say "Yes ma'am." or "Yes Sir" because it makes them feel so old. My mother would turn over in her grave if she thought I didn't show an adult respect. It isn't about being an elder, but an adult.

One of my fondest memories when I was a child, was after the noon news went off and my dad would go back to work, was momma laying us down for an afternoon nap. She would lay down with us and read us a book. When we were all finally asleep, she would get a chance to read the paper or whatever there was she wanted to catch up on. When we would wake up, she would be in the living room sewing and there would be some kind of snack for us before she sent us outside to play.

I will never forget her face when she had her first grandson, my son. She was almost giddy over him. And she talked her own special language to him and they oohed and cooed  for what seemed like forever. But when she held my grandson, her first great grandchild, it was just like it was 21 years earlier.  I catch myself just sitting there watching and smiling.

All of us knew that momma loved each of use no matter how different we were. I want my kids and grands to know the same about me. I don't want them to remember the job I held or the things that I have accomplished. I want them to have fond memories of the time we spent together. Even when I discipline  my grandson, he still knows that I love him above all else just as my mom did me.