Janine Deanna ~ BLOG

My Mother’s hands

 She makes me think of Mother Teresa ~ always giving ~ never expecting more then a hug in return.  Her heart is made of the good stuff,  the REALLY good stuff,  and it fills me with pride.  I wasn’t always proud of her though.  High school was a tough time with a “religious” mother who spoke her mind and protected her kids the best she knew how, after growing up in a “less then perfect” environment herself.  I can now, in all honestly look back and say with totally love, THANK YOU MOM FOR HOW YOU RAISED ME,  and I am sorry for the painful words that so easily rolled off my bitter, hormonal, teenage tongue.

 She is here visiting right now for Hayden and Mateya’s birthdays, and she is a delight to have by my side.   A little sassy, yet always willing to accomplish the task I give to her.  What an incredible help she has been to us!

 Last night as we were getting ready for bed, she softly mentioned her hands were sore and dry. I grabbed some moisturizer and knelt beside the bed and rubbed it all over her dry hands.  As I was holding her left hand, I noticed a few small age spots beginning to appear.  It’s a moment that I had thought about from time to time over the last few years as I have acknowledged myself getting older… My mom is also getting older too.  Although you would NEVER guess she is about to turn 60! {People are always telling her she is “fibbing about her age”}

 I thought about the reality that one day I might be here on this earth without her, the strongest rock in my life. The women who gave me life. That one day our relationship may be redefined when I take the role as “adult” and have to make big life decisions for her and my dad.  Life.  It’s comes in seasons and sometimes you didn’t get time to prepare for the next season and it creeps up on you. 

 As I examined her hands I was filled with pride while reminiscing about the kindness and aid that her giving hands have provided to so many people who crossed her path. My mother is a servant.  Her heart is made up of  goodness and she simply wants to help others.  I am thankful for the example that she has laid before me, and the impact that she has had on my heart.  I remember many moments of realizing the depths of my mom’s character. 

 It was my 8^th birthday party and there was an amazing Barbie make up kit as a door prize.  I was allowed to invite 8 girls cuz I was turning 8.  This year I was offered the option of 9, with the exception that I invite a specific girl who NEVER got invited to the birthday parties.  She came, she laughed, she had an amazing time and she won the coveted door prize that ALL other 8 girls were begging for, coincidence, not for a second.  I remember my mom strategically pulling her name out of the hat and after handing her eager hands the gift! Then she looked over at me and winked  to say, “see how much SHE NEEDS THIS MY LOVE!” A lesson that I will NEVER FORGET! 

 Her hands provide love and care, even when the person doesn’t know it’s happening.  I know to her…that’s the best gift of all. She is humble, and I am thankful for the examples that she sets with her hands, as they speak louder then any words she has ever spoken.

 Her hands:

 Her hands are beautiful & her nails always painted

Her hands have worked harder then I will ever know

Her hands have held my face when she was kissing my forehead

Her hands have spanked my butt when I stepped out of line

Her hands have braided many brides in my hair

Her hands have sewn beautiful dresses with matching ones for my dolls

Her hands laid cold cloths on my head with I was sick

Her hands have covered  her own eyes to escape reality

Her hands have scrubbed stranger’s toilets

Her hands have cared for my father for almost 40 years

Her hands have gifted me money when I needed it the most

Her hands have taught me how to be gentle

Her hands have protected me from those who tried to harm me

Her hands have constructed endless crafts with my kids

Her hands have let go when it was easier for us to live apart from each other

Her hands have been folded in prayer over my life from the day I was born

Her hands have wiped away my tears, many, many tears

Her hands have slapped my face when I 100% deserved it

Her hands have rocked my children to sleep

Her hands have given hope to the needy

Her hands have been raised to heaven as she worships Jesus

Her hands write cards to me and my loved ones one EVERY occasion and even times for no reason at all

Her hands have flipped the pages of her bible day after day after day as she walks her talk

Her hands have held me in my darkest hours….

And without her hands I would be lost

Her hands are a direct connection to her enormous heart and I am so proud to have such an amazing women to call my mother

 Her faith is real, it’s in her core, and it’s what she grew up instilling in me.  Even though there were years when I didn’t want to listen, she kept supporting me and encouraging me along my journey.  I am beyond blessed to have such an incredible women to love me, push me, encourage me, yell at me, question me, and ultimately hold MY HAND when they are “sore and dry” from this life.

 I love you mama ~ and will forever be the person that I am because your hands have been there every step of the way to guide me

 Thank you for simply being you 

J

{ Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do…but how much we put in that action }

~Mother Teresa