Gratitude post day 13: Mentors, the power of influence

As I was cleaning up from our  family Valentine's Day, I was pondering on what I would write about.  Mopping the floor with remnants from my grandchildren's cookie making,  cleaning smudges from glass doors and  toys needing reorganization, I felt this incredible gratitude for the mentors in my life. 
 I thought of my first mentor my mother, (maybe it was the cleaning) whose influence has blessed me in ways I continue to discover.  She had this neverending ability to believe in me and tell me I was amazing.

Looking back, I realize that a four year old isn't very amazing at anything, but she convinced me that I was an artist, a clothing designer and that music had come with me from heaven. She told me stories of me joyfully singing as I pretended to wash dishes before I could talk.  (I'm sure I made a complete mess)

Music and a little dance...
As I grew she budgeted for many years of private instruction

(about 7 years old)

(Singing "Anything you can do I can do better" with my brother Jeff)

Dance Recital around 10

These provided ongoing opportunities to perform. We never had a lot of money, but she taught me to work hard, and never give up. 

Competing...
She would listen to me practice for hours, offering encouraging words when I was discouraged. For twelve years I competed annually in AFNA (Accordion Federation of North America) finally winning top categories including "Queen" which was open to girls 15-20 years old. There were usually around 50 girls entered, and each was required to play the same selection.    

At my first competition, for whatever reason, my 8 year old little girl decided someday I would win this.  I was now 20, in college and wanted to give up.  I had come very close the previous two years, too much work, and afraid of never reaching the goal.  My mother encouraged me to let go of my pride and try again.  I have drawn on this experience over and over in my adult life.  

Painting...
My mother also encouraged me as an artist and purchased different types of paints for me to experiment with including the classic paint by number.  I was fortunate to have a 2nd & 3rd grade teacher that mentored my painting skills.  For whatever reason, my mother allowed me to paint in my room, which resulted in me spilling paints and ruining things. Regardless she helped me clean it up and continued to let me paint.

Sewing...
I remember her giving me fabric, and letting me design an outfit when I was about 5 without a pattern.  I wish I had a picture of what I made.  I remember wearing it proudly, but thinking back it must have looked ridiculous although I was oblivious.  She eventually taught me to sew correctly something I personally hated. Even so she found ways to work sewing into life. At the time I despised everything about it.  She was a seamstress; I wanted to create. In my mind most of my time I spent unpicking and upset that we couldn't just buy me a new dress.  "That's what other families do, by the way". (Yes, I got snotty with her) ugh. 
 I was difficult, or obnoxious whenever we were sewing together. Even with the struggles, she was relentless, and I eventually became a proficient seamstress.

 I recall us brainstorming on the design of this dress for my upcoming competition, but the fabric was so cheap my mom bought enough for us to make dresses for the three of us.
   (yes this happened)  

 I sewed for my older children occasionally while they were young, but later found I enjoyed making matching dresses for the little girls.  Yes my mother was rubbing off on me, and I was enjoying it at times.

Christmas gifts, and sewing fun

 Over the years, the place I have used these skills the most would be costume construction for musicals and theater my children have been a part of. As I helped with Les Miserables, I resolved some of my love/hate sewing issues as I shared and taught a few students and adults basic sewing skills. It made me happy to see others excited to learn.  I also realized sewing is like life.  Often times there is unpicking and starting over because of careless mistakes, poor planning, or lack of knowledge.  Just like life, correcting mistakes is frustrating, takes time and patience, but there's a sense of accomplishment for not giving up.  I occasionally felt like my mother was working through me, still mentoring me on how to be more patient with the teaching process then she was with me.

Self Reliance...
Another thing my mother taught me was the joy of a clean and organized home.  I didn't like how she accomplished it, but none the less I learned that I was happier in order and cleanliness. She taught me through years of patience to cook everything from scratch.  We ground whole grains into flour and made bread. pancakes, cookies etc.  With four brothers, and a tight budget she knew how to feed a hungry crew cheaply.  We grew a garden, harvested, canned and preserved it.  My father hunted elk and moose that we ate many years.   I learned how to be self reliant, which became a way of life, during many lean years of our early marriage.

 Was she a perfect mom? 

No, she made mistakes; lots of them. 

But, 

as I pondered over this past weekend, the wonderful family moments,the sounds of beautiful music, and happy grandchildren who learned they could do new skills,

(cookie making first for Peter). 

 I thought how differently my life would be without my mother's influence and belief in me. 

 So much joy fills my life because of her tenacity to not give up on me, to believe in me and to not let me give up on myself.  Quitting was never an option, and that has helped me pick myself up time and time again, and start over.  

Thanks Mom,you were right, I hope you are aware of how your influence is impacting future generations.

 How I would love to have a chat with you!

                                 I miss you...