Since tomorrow is Mother’s Day, I decided to usurp the blog
site and write something on/to Mimi. So
here goes:
Special holidays always bring memories of former times and
this is no exception. Motherhood is such
an important thing to me and I take it seriously. I always wanted to be a mother and have never
faced a day when I wished I didn’t have my precious ones. Of course there are always times when I would
have traded them for goats, but I would have quickly said I had my fingers
crossed so it didn’t count.
Mimi was a challenge from the get go. Any of you who knew us when… will vouch for
the fact that she was very difficult to parent.
On the other hand, as a child she was as spritely a delight as she was
and is quick and clever, always keeping you on your toes. And then there is her talent. That is something she despises or at least
disregards. I am certain she believes
she is not talented, and furthermore, as surprised as anyone that she is as
captivating as she is when she takes the stage.
I have been shocked at what I have seen her accomplish and
stood proudly by as I scanned an audience dazzled by her whirling across the
stage like a dervish or mesmerizing them with her melodies sung to God. I have watched her blossom into a mother who
tends to her young ones, whether human or animal, with love and tenderness and
equally with stubborn determination when they would not do their homework, take
a bath (children) or allow themselves to be milked (goats).
Of course, there have been challenges for us all along the
way, and if she had been more confident, perhaps she would not be as capable as
she has become. But she has matured
well, in my mind. She manages to handle
a job, her home without a servant (something we all grew up with), wash (with
help form Thadd), cook, make all sorts of costumes, projects and baked goods on
demand, entertain casually in her home, whether palace or home on the range,
and so many other things.
If you had been a betting person, you would have been crazy
to bet on that wild young filly that would kick up her heels and run or dig
them in and refuse to budge. However, if
you had not trusted that God is a miracle worker, you might have been surprised
at what that little bit of a, born in Mexico, frisky fritter (a pet name in the
Starnes home) has become and what a caring and responsible mother, too. We’ll need to ask Chloe or Brett to find out
if it has all worked out, but I suspect they’d agree.
In the end though, I have to say that the most special
moment in my relationship with her is when at 8 years old, she reckoned with
God and decided to give her life to Him.
I have watched that decision shape her, restrain her, and thrust her
forward. I have also seen it influence her choices, particularly of whom she
would befriend or care for, and whom she would marry and been proud of those
choices. And so I ask you to forgive me
for bragging on my brat, but I think she turned out okay. No actually, by the grace of God, she turned
out blessed, redeemed, and forgiven--the best part.
Love, Mom
No comments:
Post a Comment