Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Mothers (05/02/05)
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TITLE: My Mother Has Changed! | Previous Challenge Entry
By alan polacek
05/07/05 -
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I’m now in my fifties, my kids are all grown. Mom is still living so that makes her - old.
She’s up in years and her memory fades. She’s always telling stories of me and my younger days.
Oh! The kids think it’s silly. They’ll laugh, then ask “ Did you really?”
Put’s me on the spot, what can I say? “ I guess if she says so, I don’t remember it that way.”
Yes, Mother has changed, I remember the times. The days of my youth still remain in my mind.
Like the time I was swatted for leaving the yard. Let me punish my kids and it’s “ Don’t be so harsh!”
And when I was home you either ate what she cooked. Or , and I can hear her yet..
“ Don’t give me that puppy eyed look. Just go on to bed. You’ll eat breakfast I bet!”
When my kids were little and we were there for a meal. Do you think they had to eat what Mother prepared?
Noooo!- She’d say “ It’s no big deal! - If you don’t like that honey, there’s cake in there!”
And the years in my teens, after a Saturday night. Always came Sunday and usually a fight.
“ I’m tired, let me sleep! I don’t need to go to Church!” Yep! You guessed it. You know what I heard.
I got a sermon in the bedroom and another at Church. Don’t know why I fought it, I’d never win.
But I showed Her! I’d sit in the back pew on the end.
Mother has changed. Probably still wants to swat me. But now I’d understand.
It would be out of love or to keep me from danger. To get my attention, she’d never strike in anger.
Now Mom cooks what I like. Even things I shouldn’t eat
We’ve gone full circle. I do now what she used to do for me.
It’s me that now worries, not for me but for her. I would go to her for comfort. Now I try to ease her hurt.
I take her to the Doctor, run errands, mow her grass. She thinks she’s a bother, always says “ I hate to ask.”
The biggest change is Sundays. The days of bickering have passed.
She’s really changed HER ways. No more threats with a water filled glass.
I pick HER up and drive HER now. And there’s no - In the back and on the end
We now sit together, HER favorite pew and I really think she’s proud. I am too, but you know us men.
Mother’s not like she used to be, nothing like the one in my past.
There’s no more swatting or yelling at me. Only thankful, loving, soft gentle pats.
We now exchange views, no more long boring lectures.
Still can’t win, she’ll back her views with “Scriptures!”
Mom can no longer cuddle her cute little boy, as I set there snuggled up in her lap. But I know there are days, she wishes for that.
The times that I hurt her, I don't hear about. It’s like they never happened. Only talk of how proud.
She no longer works a garden, hurts her back and her knees. But she forgets about the pain, when she's knelt praying for me.
Mother I love you! God truly blessed me. It’s a shame everyone can’t have a Mother like me.
One more thing Mother, Something I hope you will do. No matter how weary, please keep praying me through!”
You Know! As I run spell check and give this one final read.
My Mothers not changed. Looks like it was me.
Alan W. Polacek
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