In 1993 I was asked to write a poem for a Mother-Daughter Banquet at our church. It was a big congregation and quite an honor to be asked to be on that program. My friends had learned that my heart could sing in an iambic pentameter of sorts when I was the Mistress of Ceremonies at the birthday party for our pastor's wife.
We dressed up in clothes and hats of a bygone era.
Every line I spoke that day as Mistress was written in rhyme. So later, I was challenged to write a poem for our mother-daughter banquet and didn't dare refuse.
Things have changed, of course in the many years since I wrote the following rhyme. I am a Grandmother now. Time marches on, or flies by.
I was raised in GriggsDakota, with a kind and patient mother. It was from that perspective I wrote the following poem all those years ago. Of course, I dedicated it to Mom and invited her to attend the banquet with me and my daughters. The introduction that evening was the same one I have written here. And Mom, I hope we laugh as hard today as we did that night in 1993.
"Mom, for all the times I've embarrassed you in the past, I just want you to know...I am about to do it again."
Thoughts on the MD Relationship
"On Mothers and Daughters they've asked me to speak,
And I have been thinking for nearly a week
Of what I could say that would catch your attention
And what parts of this topic I should now mention.
My mother's a mother, her mother is, too.
And I am a mother, and so, most of you.
And we are all daughters of mothers of course,
So really, all women could be a source
Of info and topics for this evenings rhyme.
But to interview all would take too much time.
You know how it is for a mother these days,
We're so pressed for time, life goes by in a haze.
But, as I considered this particular task
I decided to simply pull off the mask
And give my impressions, though silly or straight,
For daughters and mothers and grandmas turned great.
So, back in my memory I started to travel
To find recollections and let stories unravel.
Of mother-relationships, generation to next.
Before long, I began writing this text.
When I was a little girl, long before teens,
My mother did house work in her blue jeans.
" Mom, while you're cleaning the house, I'd like to see
You wearing a dress, like the Moms on TV!"
My mom is a pleaser: The next day I was greeted
By Mom in a dress, with a skirt, long and pleated.
I pretended that I was the star of a show,
With Mom looking gorgeous, till what do you know?
The floor need washing and as she cleaned up the trail
The skirt of her dress wound up in the pail.
She wrung out the skirt, the end of my dream.
I never discussed it for fear she would scream.
Being a teen girl is sometimes a pain,
With hormones and heartaches and monthly weight gain
When I was that age any little anecdote
Could put me on a real panic note.
Teen troubles kept me going round in a tizzy!
Hair, clothes, important stuff, kept me so busy!
But Mom was there, stable and strong,
She just calmly urged, pushed, or pulled me along.
When you are little, you never guess,
The love in Mom's heart, she can't always express.
But teen years convinced me about mother-love.
Of strength and endurance sent from above.
Then I grew up, how quickly time passes!
Soon I was taking parenting classes.
Natural childbirth now was the rage,
My daughter arrived and we turned the page.
I now was the mother of a daughter so small,
It all started over, and as I recall
Us together and wondering where time had gone.
It flies by so quickly, life doesn't last long.
I'm looking forward to Grandma-hood, someday.
I'll bake cookies, make doll clothes and take time to play.
When you are a mother you must be a constable,
But, Grandma has fun without being responsible
For all of the practical matters of life
That complicate mother-daughter days and add strife.
Her patience is longer, her duty list, short.
She never has anything bad to report.
Now, my final thoughts and contemplation
To share with you, this congregation:
You must remember, part of a mother's charm
Is that if her daughter has need of it, Mom cuts off her arm!
As a result, the relationship's built
On compassion and love, and a lifetime of guilt!
But as you get older, perspective to gain,
You realize, for mother, this isn't a pain.
It's simply a joy God puts in our heart,
So, from Mother's love, we never need part.
Listen girls, even if Mom continues to bug you,
You can be your own person and still let her hug you!"
copyright: J K Huso Lukens All rights reserved.