My other mother

When I first got to know Todd back when we were 18 and freshmen in college, his youngest brother was 8.  I met his family while he was still on a mission in Norway and I was in college. We got married not long after he got back, and I was integrated into his large and loving family immediately.  Since most of his siblings were still at home, I felt a kinship, a sibling familiarity, and instinctively and naturally referred to my in-laws as mom and dad, just as all my new “brothers” and “sisters” did.

And that’s how it’s been for over 24 years.  She’s simply been my other mother.  I’m indebted to her for so much of my learning since, and I’m beyond grateful for her example and mentorship.  So many of her habits have become mine over the years; I just never recognized where they’d originated until I began to take stock a few years back.  I’m surprised that her ways now feel so embedded in me, so natural.  And yet I think they’ve come from years and years of watching her up close, from being in her company, from knowing her family.

I believe there’s an element of truth to the adage that we tend to marry those who resemble our opposite-sex parent.  Todd is a lot like my dad in that he likes to work with his hands and build, that he’s affectionate, is an excellent navigator, splurges on eating out and sodas, loves to fish, and just likes spending time with his family.  Likewise, I feel like I’ve become a lot like his mom.   I just think she’s nailed a few things and I feel lucky to have been able to spend so much time with her over the years as she’s tutored me.  Not that my mom was a slacker, it’s completely ingrained in me to write thank you notes, to remember birthdays, to buy gifts, to spend time with girlfriends, to make holidays special, to have nice Sunday dinners, to use white serving dishes. But every woman has her own personality and ways of doing things, so it’s been a blessing to have both women as teachers.

Both taught me to re-use my plastic ziplock bags and to grocery shop early in the morning.  Both taught me how to make a tight bed and to turn down the covers so it looks inviting, to welcome company warmly and hospitably.  Both taught me the importance of dinnertime and cooking from scratch.  And how to pack a hearty picnic.

But I never knew about making bread until Todd and I were married and we started making pizza on Friday nights.  I was too unfamiliar and apprehensive about yeast in those days, so Todd did the crust. We’d always ordered Domino’s growing up; I guess I never knew you could make it at home.  Todd’s mom taught me about warm water and cinnamon rolls and how sticky the dough needs to be.  She taught me about French bread and how to turn it a quarter turn and to use the heels of our hands so it wouldn’t get wrapped up in our fingers.

I had no idea about camping.  I’d been twice before I got married: once with a friend when I was in 7th grade and again as a college student with our cousins.  But Todd’s family camped everywhere and so he introduced me to a whole new world.  We began as soon as we got married and I fell in love with sleeping in a tent and cooking outside.  There’s nothing I’d rather do in the world than go camping.  I remember Todd’s mom telling me how she and Jerry were at a dance in college and ended up going to the canyon to have a campfire instead.  She set the precedence and I’m so grateful; I’d much rather wear jeans and sit in a camp chair than stuff myself into a fancy dress and make small talk holding red punch any day.  Her love of the outdoors is contagious and inspiring, and Todd and I remind ourselves a lot of his parents as we have taken the reins and led our own family on many nature expeditions.

I’d never heard of a tin foil dinner in my life until we were in vet school.  Todd’s mom used to pack them and her family to the lake or park where they’d have dinner and a chance to explore.  We’ve followed suit and have gone on many similar outings, making tin foil dinners the same as she always did: hamburger, potatoes, carrots, onions, Lipton onion soup mix and cream of something soup.  I’ve seen others, but I prefer hers and always go back to the original.  (She also taught me bring a wet washcloth in a baggie; I’m sure most people my age just bring store-bought wipes, but I love—and prefer—her way, so old-school and natural.)

Both moms showed us they cared for their children by making home-cooked meals, but I didn’t realize that’s what it meant until his mom pointed it out.  I must’ve been complaining about cooking at some point and she told me that we serve our families by cooking for them.  I’ve never looked at making dinner in the same way since.  And so maybe that’s why it’s easy for me to want to do it.  Even though I still don’t love cooking, I do love serving people I care about—whether it’s my own family or other families.  She taught me to see the joy in everyday tasks and to recognize how meaningful such seemingly little acts are.

I love talking with other women so much, and of course I appreciate quiet times with my two moms, listening to stories about earlier times, from their growing up years, about their parents.  They help connect me and Todd to our grandparents and other family members, and I’m so glad for the glimpses into the past they’ve both shared.  Hearing their memories has inspired me to talk about my own childhood more and to encourage Todd to do the same.

We’ve never lived near Todd’s parents.  But I don’t think it would be that different if we did (except it would be fun to spend more time together of course).  They have always been the kind to respect our privacy, to show confidence in us by staying unobtrusive.  They aren’t the meddling type and have always made us feel like we were capable in handling our own lives. Todd’s of course asked for their thoughts when we’ve had decisions to make, and I know they’ve had their opinions, but they’ve been gracious and kind as they allow us to learn by our own experience.  How wise and strengthening this has been.

Likewise, she’s been very respectful of Todd’s other siblings.  I don’t hear her gossip, and she remains vague, allowing others both in and out of her family to figure things out on their own and to share their own news.  But she petitions us to pray for one another and lets us know if someone needs some extra care.  She is always excited for her family’s milestones, and nothing thrills her more than than when someone’s house has sold or when one of her kids gets a new job or a grandkid is going on a mission. I love how she balances knowing what’s going on in our lives without betraying confidences or interfering.  

I learned the importance of cleanliness and order early on in life, and so I was grateful to be able to continue learning from Todd’s mom.  She has always kept a tidy house, beds made, dishes done.  But I've never felt uptight in her homes; they've always felt lived in and tranquil.

She's a natural in the kitchen.  I've always loved her trays of spices (with the labels on the lids of the jars so you can read what they are), as well as her other tins with bigger cooking implements in them like baking soda and salt, all in little cake-pan “drawers.”  Both moms have loads of recipe books, and for some reason I’m drawn to them whenever I visit either house.  I have loved the ones they’ve shared with me over the years, and they’re my stand-bys even today.  Lemon bars, French bread… I’ve tried others and I go back.

I love how hard-working these two women are.  My mom worked in a bank full-time as I was growing up; Todd’s mom stayed home with her six kids for a good portion of their early years until she worked in a pre-school.  They’ve shown me how to juggle responsibilities, to keep up with the basics, to get up early, to make the most of the day.  I can see why my mom fell asleep waiting for her nails to dry at 9 at night, and I can see why Todd’s parents still turn in around 10.  Their days are full and productive.  And yet I love how they can rest by watching a show or playing a game at the end of the day.  By seeing her leave some things for tomorrow, I have learned that it’s more important to re-charge, to be with my husband, to relax for a bit instead of running myself ragged getting everything done.  I’ve learned there is no such thing anyway.  And that tomorrow will be another chance.

Neither of our families were rich from a purely financial standpoint.  But both taught me that we could still maintain a nice home, that we could make a rented apartment, a fixer-upper, or a 1930s fishing resort look its best with some attention.  They showed me how a little paint could transform a wall, how planting flowers and hanging beautiful pictures could make any place feel a little more like home.  I love that even when Todd’s parents were on their mission in Omaha, they decorated their little apartment with personal furnishings and decorations that made it feel like home.  Her yard’s always been beautiful, full of flowers and lush plantings and hanging baskets, inviting and homey.

They showed me that vacations don’t need to be fancy either.  Both Todd and I grew up taking road trips to see family; that was about the extent of our summer vacations.  We were happy with our traditions, and we didn’t need anything more.  I learned recently how valuable family trips are even to adults as they reflect on those memories, and so I’m grateful our families invested in them, that they spent the money and made the effort to help us know our relatives.

I love that Todd’s mom, although frugal, recognizes there’s a time to spend.  Whenever we visit them she takes the girls and me into town for lunch and a shopping trip.  She might think nothing of a little Dairy Queen lunch, but it is a joy for us girls, a tradition we cherish with grandma.  They helped Todd out that first year of college by letting him live in the dorms and paying for a meal plan even though they still had five other kids at home to care for.  They generously bought a plane ticket for me to fly from San Diego to Chicago so we could see each other once he got home from his mission, a huge surprise for me. I still reflect back on that gift and can’t get over their generosity.  They also let us live with them for a month our first Christmas in vet school; I don’t think we realized how hard it was at that point for them to get the resort business up and running, but they were so generous and kind and never made us feel unwelcome.  I have no idea how she did it, but she managed to create a magical holiday for us even though she was so busy with working in town and running their new business.

I’ll always be a bit envious of her creativity and resourcefulness.  She just has a knack for knowing how to do almost everything.  I’ve watched her teach the girls crafts and to sew; I’ve admired her projects and artwork, especially her stained glass that she learned to do in her later years.  I love her confidence as she works and how she encourages her granddaughters to dig through her supplies and to create their own masterpieces.  She’s that same way in the kitchen, always up for trying a new recipe.  I love how she cans and preserves food, grows a garden, and keeps her freezers stocked.

I remember as a brand new mom asking her for advice.  She refused to detail how to mother; she simply said to love them and be consistent.  That has stuck with me over the years, and I always go back to it when I’m in a quandary as to how to proceed.  I would’ve liked more to go on, but it really has sufficed for the most part.

Same when I asked her if she thought I should go to work when we were struggling to know how to do vet school.  She wouldn’t say one way or another, just that sometimes moms had to work.  I also asked her how to know what to study in college, and she said to go with our talents, what comes naturally to us.  I’ve passed on that advice to my own kids as they’ve started to have similar questions.

I love how unpretentious she is, so down to earth and very approachable.  That very first time I met her, she swept me into a bear hug, a girl she didn’t even know and who was taking her son away from her!  She welcomed me unconditionally into her heart right from the beginning, and I know she’s done the same with all of her kids’ spouses.  I felt comfortable with her immediately. I love how she doesn’t need to wear fancy clothes and jewels, she’s comfortable in her jeans and washable shirts when she’s working around the house and in her yard.  She looks beautiful when she’s dressed up, but I sense she feels most comfortable in her play clothes.

She continues to teach all of us the importance of spending time together, always up for a game with grandkids, a boat ride with grandpa or an outing to the lake.  Even as they advance in years, they’re still camping, taking day trips, visiting new cities for overnighters, and traveling to see their kids across the country.  I love that she’ll watch movies with us when we visit, always eager to make us all popcorn (which I also learned from her how to make on the stove). Even recently, as we were camping in the Ozarks, she told our 17 year old daughter to go visit with her cousins; your book can wait, family is more important. She definitely lives by that mantra, as I’ve watched her swing on the front porch with one of her sons, take a little walk with grandpa, or read stories with the grandkids.  She’s always made time for her family, and her example has helped me slow down and remember to make people a priority, to choose relationships above all else.

Friends have always asked where our kids get their pretty blue eyes, and I simply tell them from their grandmas.  I’ve always known my own mom has beautiful eyes, but I think my other mom’s are beautiful as well.  Her blue eyes sparkle and dance, even behind glasses, with enthusiasm for life, with love for her family, and with wisdom and confidence that comes from knowing who she is and what really matters.  I have loved moments when I’ve seen them glisten, when we’re sharing a tender moment, especially when she’s talking about one of her kids or grandkids.  Just looking in her eyes I know where her heart is; and above all, she’s taught me in a million different ways that it belongs to God and her family. I am forever blessed—and changed—as an honorary part of her family and to have her as another mother.