As I begin my journey of mothering adult girls, I have taken some time (mainly when I run or clean) to reflect on my relationship with my mom. This evolution is unfolding in front of my eyes with my oldest girls, but I have been able to pace it against my relationship with my mom, Janet. Today, on her 75th birthday, my reflection celebrates this relationship. I have come to realize, I am a lucky one.
Now, it wasn’t always the easiest to be Janet Mottaz’s daughter. Nothing brings more joy to an already awkward teenager than having her mom be the “mean” (read: challenging) English teacher who also showed up at not just one, but BOTH of your high school proms (note here the sarcasm that has come to me through the genetics of my mom). However, this has inevitably helped me as I progressed through teenage life to adulthood. Besides deciding early in my career to NEVER teach in my kids’ school (ha), I hear her words in mine as I tell my kids that their trials will “make a good story later on.” See my experience at senior prom where my date left with another girl. Mom was there to hear my changing plans, but, in retrospect, I would have had a backup ride, would it had been necessary! See also the guts of a dude to ditch someone whose mean mom was on the premises. See? Makes a good story.
Anyway, this celebratory post doesn’t end with my high school experiences. As I celebrate my mom today, I wanted to share with you some of life lessons that a friend of mine just this week deemed appropriate for a Janet Camp (ala, Boot Camp). We’ll have to go list style, otherwise, we’ll be here forever.
- “Keep the main thing the main thing.” In other words, every decision is worth considering, but in the grand scheme of life, do we need to worry about every, single, little detail? No.
- This leads me to 2: “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, then it’s not the end.” I think she knew I was going to be an anxious child, so hearing this as I made every decision from choosing a college to changing careers, Mom would remind me that there’s stuff that wouldn’t be ideal, but nothing so dreadful that couldn’t be fixed or worked through. So, in other words, calm down.
- “What the heck, we’re on vacation.” When we were little, we were careful with spending, but when we traveled, Mom was up for a splurge! Now, we tend to text each other when it’s necessary to consider a splurge. By the way, Mom, Ann Taylor is 50% off site-wide today. I think it’s a sign.
- “The Bible is a guide but also a story.” Now, all you people who are starting to bristle, hear me out. My mom is an English scholar, proudly sporting a Master’s in English (read: Latin was a class). Her ability to discern, decipher, fact-check, correct grammar, and critically analyze a text is far beyond my capacity. Including the Bible. Her favorite argumentative piece is when anyone directly quotes a crazy Old Testament rule that is no longer applicable, “Even Jesus said he was a door, but he wasn’t a piece of wood with a door knob. Read carefully.” I love this, and as I muddled through the OT last year in my “Read the Bible in a Year” she reminded me of this often, but always keeping “the main thing, the main thing” (see #1).
- Now this isn’t a phrase she says, but it’s an action she has always done: cared for us. This has come in various manners and acts of service. It wasn’t just that she stayed at home with us when we were little, she demonstrated the importance of caring for your family while always keeping your sense of self close by. Mom wrote for the newspaper when I was little. As she transcribed her stories over the phone, I would dance in the curly phone cord. This was most likely annoying to her, but I filed away that memory in my little kid brain and emulated it as I stayed home with my kids and started this space. As we all got older, Mom showed up, for all of us. She and Dad rarely missed events for us as kids, but even now as my brother lives across the country, they try to show up for as many “main things” as they can. With us being so close, there’s rarely a Webel kid event where Ted and Janet aren’t near the front row (but, in typical Janet style, “save those front row seats for the “old” folks!” Ha!). As her mother, my Grandma Mary, neared the end of life, Mom took the Thursday night to Friday shift, caring for her mother in the way only a daughter can. As I continued to have kids, Mom became the driver to rehearsals, pick upper from practice, travel companion, shopping buddy, and place to go if you want to “be in town.” Mom has shared with my kids the value of being a good neighbor, dropping off homemade cinnamon rolls to new friends moving into town and rolling in Mrs. Proudy’s trash cans when she couldn’t. She may be three-quarters of a century, but this Grandma Janet still has a lot of life to give and live. As I write this last part, I have tears in my eyes. I’m trying to keep the main thing the main thing, Mom, but this next phase of your caregiving is hard. Caring for Dad. My dad is sick, dear readers. This stage in our life kind of stinks, but I keep reflecting on all the good we have had and am remembering #2 Janet Mottazism particularly. Mom has faced Dad’s illness the way she has done everything: with research, with tenacity, with grace, with sarcasm and humor, and with love. I am so grateful for a mom who also cares for my dad with so much dedication and adoration.
So on her 75th birthday, we celebrate all the things that make Janet Mottaz so important, but not going so crazy because “everyone has a birthday, who cares?” (another way she kept us grounded). We’ll celebrate with a fancy dinner and presents, but mostly presence, always keeping the main thing the main thing.
Happy birthday, Mom. I love you. I am the lucky one.