My Mother's Daughter

There are times in your life where you catch yourself doing something and realize that your actions are not new. The actions are learned. Such a moment occurred last week when I was using a sharpie (one of the greatest creations ever) to color in my black sunglasses frame. I love nice sunglasses but I have a tendency to break or lose them so I have been purchasing cheap pairs from Target. They protect my eyes and I am not bugged when I break them. It seems like a win-win situation. As I was coloring in my frames with a black sharpie (which is really bizarre, I know), my mind suddenly went back to memories of my Mom. 

As my Mom grew older, she became far sighted. This was a problem because my Mom was a reader. Compulsive reader. Being far-sighted was very inconvenient. She bought some prescription glasses only to break them a shortly after. Then she realized that she could buy a 6 pack of reading glasses at Costco for a bargain. But she continually broke the glasses, whether it be one temple or both temples. the temple padding, the nose guards - it was a common sight to see my Mom reading something holding up a pair of mangled glasses - it got the job done - who cares what they looked like? And she keep adding more glasses to her collection. We teased her constantly and all over the house there were glasses tucked into drawers, on dressers, in her car, purse, dining room table. She really didn't mind what they looked like - only that they worked. 

The most memorable moment with glasses came when I came home late one night and found Mom reading in bed. She wasn't holding up a pair of glasses and the frames were on straight which told me that she had found one unbroken pair until I realized that she had TAPED the glasses to her head. Both of the temples were missing, so she literally put 2 long pieces of scotch tape (which she thought wouldn't hurt as bad when she removed her makeshift glasses) and taped them to her temples and hair. Our own little Benjamin Franklin. As I laughed until I cried, she was completely non-plussed. She chuckled but could hardly acknowledge me, she was reading a book and didn't have to hold up her glasses like a monacale - mission accomplished. 

As my chipped black sunglasses were "fixed", I realized that this makeshift attempt was actually something my Mother would do. I would like to believe I would never use tape to make my sunglasses work but I can't say never. Ten years ago, I never thought I would actually use a sharpie to color in something (think toe nails, sunglasses and millions of other uses). But here I am. With a rainbow of sharpie colors and a lot of imagination. He-he. I think my Mom would be proud. 

The funny part is that when she passed away, I didn't really want any of her belongings.  She didn't wear jewelry and her clothes didn't fit me. What I wanted most was a pair of those silly reading glasses. Preferably a broken pair. Isn't it funny that our most valuable possessions are sometimes the little things? Like a broken pair of glasses that makes you chuckle when you see them? Or the fact that I proudly realized that my desire to use a sharpie to fix things is probably something genetic that my Mom passed on to me?

This is my Mother's Day tribute - very late but I am always late - it is another gift from my Mother. And taped glasses?  I am actually sure my Mom is chuckling right now. It was one of her finer moments. What can I say? I am proud to be my mother'sdaughter. Sharpie and all.

 

Mom's glasses. Please note the missing temple on one side and temple padding replaced with a band-aid. Klassy. 

Moms

This most recent Mother's Day was one of the more pleasant ones recently in my memory. We spent it with Darren's Mom and it was wonderful to see him enjoying her company. I will upload pictures soon from the weekend. It was the first (and probably last) time I ever witnessed Darren and Stephen switching places on their parents. And I can't even describe the AWESOME-ness of the moment. That is how funny it was, I got to make up a word for it.

Dad and Mom, Christmas 2000

But I digress. I am writing this post because I wanted to share some thoughts about Mothers. It is a topic I enjoy. Because although Mother's Day can be a bummer, I believe that for 23 years of my life, I had it pretty good. So I am going to share a story which is random and sweet and is one of my favorite memories of my Mom, since it happened right before she passed.

Let me give you some background. Out of my parents, my Mom was the mechanically inclined person. She was capable of changing oil, popping a clutch, changing tires, and knew all kinds of crazy things about belts and I have seen her hotwire a car. She talked shop with mechanics. She was THAT Mom. Not to say my Dad was a slouch by any stretch but it was typically my Mom that would ask her children about the well being of their vehicles and tires. She was very big on getting tires rotated and checked.

At this particular time in my life I had an '82 VW Jetta. I was fortunate enough to purchase this car for $100 from my brother Jeremy and his wife Kimmi. And it was a great car. It has its little quirks but it worked and served my needs in college. At this particular time, I got a flat tire. Not just a flat tire but more of a tire implosion (I think the tires were from 1982). Luckily, I knew how to change a tire (my Momma taught me right) so I put on the spare tire. Since it wasn't a donut tire, I had no intention of getting it truly replaced. This was a topic that worried my Mom greatly when she called me. One of the questions she typically asked during the conversation was, "Did you get a new spare tire? You should always have a spare tire in your trunk." To which I would breezily reply, "Yeah yeah, I am going to get one soon."

Around Thanksgiving, I called my Mom (which I must admit, I did quite often) and she answered the phone crying. When I asked what happened, she told me that she had been very stressed. She was planning Thanksgiving in Arizona for all of her Bluth cousins and wanted to play games and have some sort of a program. Well she had talked to a few family members who shot down all of her ideas. And she was stressed and discouraged and felt bad. At this point, she sensed my first instinct to call these people and let them know exactly how I felt about ANYONE making my Mom cry, and she made me promise that I would not call them. I was sad because I didn't think I could made it to Thanksgiving to help her so I did the next best thing I could. I called my brother Tim. I told him a short story about what happened and told him he needed to be at Mom's disposal for Thanksgiving. (She didn't say I couldn't tell other people :)) Tim promptly called Mom and told her that it would be a great time and he was there to help with whatever she wanted to do.

These events happened within the course of an hour. What do they have to do with a tire? I promise I will get there. On my way to work Mom calls.

Me: Hi Mom
Mom: Hi Nikki-gal - Tim just called me. You didn't happen to tell him what happened did you?
Me: I only promised not to call those people, I didn't promise I wouldn't call anyone else.
Mom: Thank you, it was a huge relief to get that call. That really helped.
Me: No problem. It will be a great weekend.
Mom: Where are you headed to right now?
Me: Work.
Mom: Did you get your spare tire?
Me: Ummm, yeah, I will get that when I get home. Huge priority.
Mom: Long lecture about how dangerous it is to drive without a spare.

I got off the phone as fast as I could and went into work. When I came out almost 6 hours later, I was surprised to find a brand new tire on my back seat. No note, just the tire. I never locked my car because who steals an '82 Jetta? If it ran out of gas, it would be totaled. But the tire was there. It came from Mom because she was the only person who cared. Which means my Mom jumped in her car, went and bought the tire. Since she is a car person, she knew which tire to purchase. Then she drove 45 minutes from Salt Lake City to Orem to put the tire on my back seat to show her love for me. She didn't call me, or come into my work. She just drove home. Some Moms make quilts and some Moms write eloquent notes to show their love but I am glad I had a Mom who simply bought a tire. And to me that's love.

As a little sidenote there was a great article in the New York Times by Thomas Friedman (thanks Corey). His mother recently passed and he paid tribute to her. At the end he wrote, Call your mother, I sure wish I could call mine. I couldn't agree with him more.

Mom

02/24/01
This was the day that everything changed. It was the day my Mom passed away. Every year I remember this day. Not in any attempt to wallow in remorse but to make sure I don't forget. As time goes by, you do start to forget. Little things like the way she smelled or even the sound of her footsteps at home. My brother had made a cd of a Relief Society lesson she had given at church. When I first listened to it, it took my breath away because it sounded like her. And to me she sounded like home.

There are some important things that I haven't forgotten. She is a Mom. She shaped my world. She taught me how to love, she taught me how to share, how to talk, how to read. She taught me how to live. Everyday that I live, everything that I love, anything that I learn - has always been following in the footsteps of Mom. My job going forward is to remember what I can and apply it to my own life. The missing-you-so-bad-that-it-hurts never really goes away - your heart just grows strong enough to deal with it. I don't wallow because my Mom never would.

Today is just a day of reflection and remembrance. To my friends who never knew her, here were some of her finer qualities:

Mother - (to 11 children, which she bore naturally)

Wife - She shared 40 happy years with my Dad

Testimony - Her most valued possession - her relationship with her Savior saw her through some difficult times.

Energy - Very active and very fun. Always getting people together for activities which typically involved some amount of athleticism.

Humor - Could laugh at anything. Easiest way to make her not mad was to make her laugh (which I used to my advantage as a teenager).

Athletic Ability - she was simply AMAZING at any sport she attempted. In college she lettered in Softball, Basketball, Volleyball, Diving and Swimming and was tested as the most coordinated athlete at BYU (out of men and women). She was ranked as a Masters division tennis player, played on the Mexican Olympic Basketball team, participated in the Pan-American games and was named female athlete of the year in Mexico. The year she passed away she was still doing back flips on the trampoline. Sometimes I wonder if I really AM her daughter.

***03/13/08 - Correction. My Dad informed me today that I was wrong - she lettered in 5 sports at BYU - the missing one was Volleyball. :)

And here are some pictures:

A picture of her basketball days. She is the one with the ball. Are you kidding me with those legs? This game was in Mexico, and soon afterward she was named female athlete of the year. I think they were afraid she was going to kick them with her muscular legs if she didn't win. :)
A picture of my Mom, Misha and myself in the Colonies in Mexico - we have just gone tubing and I was the shortest child ever.


Here she is in Europe during college. Yes, she is wearing lederhosen.