For the Woman I Love

My Mother just completed her first semester of tech school. Though she struggled every moment--and cried every week--she finished with a 91 average, and I couldn't be more proud of her. As "busy work" for the days that they could not go to school due to inclement weather, my mother had to write a series of short papers on topics from her long-term goals to why she chose the program.

For most people, this would be a simple task. Even my moaning and complaining students would scoff at the notion that this would take someone hours to complete; for my mother, it took days. She sent me her papers to edit, and though they were already good, I tweaked run-on sentences and comma splices and returned them to her.

There is something quite intimate about reading someone else's writing. It is not until mid-semester, when I receive my students' first papers, that I really start to know them. Sure, they could be writing about Flannery O'Connor or John Steinbeck, but even their literary analysis has their traits and personalities written all over them. I often feel voyeuristic, as I'm sure Math professors and the like never feel so intimately attached to their pupil's offerings.

Reading my mother's work was a completely different experience. I felt she was candid, real, and more vulnerable than ever before, for what is more intimidating than writing a college-level paper when one only has a 7th grade education from a backwoods county school?

Mom starts her "Why I am Here" paper: "In July 2007, I received the news that our plant would be closing. I had job security for nineteen years. It had always been in the back of my mind to further my education; needless to say, I would still be there if my factory hadn’t closed."

In her "Further Education" paper, Mom remarks, "Now that I have got my taste of higher education, I feel a little more confident about trying something out of my element. It has been intimidating and challenging to say the least. Even on days when I think I’m not going to make it, I try to pick myself up and keep going. Before I started this class, my daily routine was taking care of my family, working straight for thirty four years, and doing volunteer work."

This is true: Mom never missed a band concert, dance recital, softball game, Girl Scouts camping trip, academic decathalon, bake sale, fundraiser, etc. This coupled with a 50 hour/week job, cooking, cleaning, church service work, and keeping up with all of the bills, birthdays, and banquets, I'm not really sure how she did it. I always wondered what she missed during that time. She claims raising us was the highlight of her life, and that makes me a little sad. It was in Mom's goals paper, however, that I most saw the side of a woman I'd never known, and in which I saw all the things this woman still wished to complete:

One of my long term goals was chosen when I was a child. I wanted a nice home and family. Some people may not consider that a goal, but in my mind, that’s what I wanted, and I have achieved that goal. I have a husband of thirty-one years, two daughters, and a nice home.

Another long term goal would be to volunteer for the Red Cross. Every time I see a disaster, I have such sorrow for the families that have been misplaced from their homes. I may not do anything but hand out blankets, water, or food, but I would like to be part of helping families.

Besides having one of every kind of flower, I have always wanted to travel. I know there is a lot to see in the world. In order to travel and do the volunteer work, I have to have a career to fund this goal. I could say I would like to be a surgeon, lawyer, or another high ranking job, but that would be lying. This may seem boring or dull to some people, but being happy with your life and accomplishments is what it’s all about.

Another goal of mine is to be as healthy as I can be even if I live to be very old. I have always wanted to run a marathon or even a half marathon before I get too old, which I’m not sure how old is too old. I hope to keep learning something everyday, regardless if it comes with a certificate, diploma or just a new task."

My mother has always told me that I teach her so much, but she doesn't give herself enough credit. I find so much beauty in the fact that all she ever wanted was a stable home life and a garden. Even her greatest desires express a need to help others and to see the world. What I wouldn't give for fortunes right now so I could fulfill these desires.