Sep
23
2014
Legacy Of Words
Posted in Motherhood 4 Comments
I was an only child.
There was more one-on-one attention.
There was no need to share my mother with anyone.
There were no hand-me-downs.
Life revolved around adults.
I became very good at conversing with those older than me.
One of the positives about being an only child was also a negative.
The one-on-one attention where school was concerned.
The work was my own but it had a lot of adult input.
Science fair projects that I loathed were something my mother found interesting.
There was no hiding my grades.
There was always that person waiting for me to come home and share the good and bad.
My mother worked diligently with me.
Flash cards to study math facts.
Spelling words that must be recited to her.
Penmanship that needed to be done over if not by neatest work.
I am grateful to her for doing that as I look back and remember.
At the time, I did not enjoy it at all.
Our lives are lived forward but understood backwards.
It is often not until we are parents ourselves that we begin to understand our upbringing.
I remember my seventh grade year.
I had a male teacher, which was actually the second one I had in elementary school.
This teacher was considered “cute” by some of the girls.
I wasn’t sure what I thought about him.
He had given us a history project to do and I went to work.
I think it was about explorers, though for the life of me I can’t remember which one.
I set out to do my research, which was the point of the project.
It would not only have to pass his requirements, it had to pass my mother’s as well.
In those days, you had to look up a word in the dictionary.
I dreaded asking my mother for a spelling or a definition.
She never gave it to me.
Look it up, was her go-to response.
How I despised going to the dictionary.
You had to know how to spell the word to find the word.
That never made sense to me.
Needless to say, my dictionary skills were quite good.
My mother was a strong believer in using a Thesaurus.
Now that intrigued me.
I loved the fact that I could find different words to convey the same meaning.
I liked expanding my vocabulary, a phrase I learned from her.
I enjoyed finding new words and used my newfound skill for my project.
Explorers traveled in ships.
In some cases, their ships were old.
I found a new word to describe the ships: crude.
Crude: in a natural or raw state; not yet processed or refined.
Constructed in a rudimentary or makeshift way.
I liked that word and thought it described the ship perfectly.
My mother agreed when she reviewed my report.
I handed the project in on the day that it was due.
A few days later, it was returned with a lower grade than usual.
Red circles were all over the paper.
Red circles were around most of my new Thesaurus words.
Crude is not an appropriate term for a ship, in bold red letters.
My mother was not one for complaining to the teacher.
I did well in school.
She felt that good teamwork between school and home was necessary.
Those were the days you got in trouble at home if you got in trouble at school.
I showed her the paper.
She looked at it quietly but I could see that she was very annoyed.
I just couldn’t figure out at that point the object of her annoyance.
She went to the phone and dialed the school.
I heard some of the conversation.
Tomorrow afternoon will be fine.
I gave her a questioning glance.
I will be meeting with your teacher tomorrow after school.
My mother was a lovely woman but she had a no nonsense way about her.
I smiled when I thought of this teacher having to deal with her questions.
I want you to know that it is not because of the grade that I am seeing your teacher.
It is because he is not allowing you to grow in knowledge and that is a huge problem.
I was to wait for my mother in the hallway while she talked to my teacher.
I saw her walk into the room, Thesaurus in hand.
I saw her walk out but a smile was nowhere to be found.
I knew not to ask her about it until we got to the car.
He will not accept the word crude to describe a ship, she said perplexed.
All he kept saying was that it meant offensively coarse or rude.
Even when I showed him the Thesaurus, he said that was not a seventh grade word.
He accused me of doing your project.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
She checked and double-checked my work.
She had me do things over if it was not my best.
She never did the project for me, and she was highly insulted that he thought as much.
The grade remained.
He never backed down.
My mother never gave up, not so much in the classroom but at home.
She strongly believed in expanding your vocabulary.
From her, without even knowing it at the time, I got my love of words.
As much as I love to read now that was not my passion back then.
Writing was what I loved.
I wrote stories and put them in crude books tied together with yarn.
I am grateful for all the things she taught me.
They have served me well.
Days like this, I wish she could have seen the fruit of her labor.
A legacy of words that began all those years ago.
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. (Psalm 19:14)
I’m so sorry you lost your Mom so young. She surely did help you become the wonderful writer you are now. I also know how it is to be the only child–sometimes too much attention! But lots of love, too. . I like the way things were back when I was growing up in the 40’s and 50’s. Parents and teachers worked together. Authority was respected. Rules were to be obeyed. We had standards! Keep using the writing and teaching gifts that God has given you. God bless!
Sue
Thank you for your sweet, encouraging words, Sue.
Gina
Your mom did a fantastic job with you in the short 15 years you were together. She was an amazing person, I wish I could have met her. She would be so proud of the woman you have become, my friend. God bless.
Love,
Barb
Barb,
What an easy comment to approve! Thank you, friend.
Reggie