"Thank you" is not enough!

Sometimes I wonder how many times my mom cooked an incredible meal for all of us without hearing a single "thank you."  I can't imagine how many nights she stayed up much later than we did just to make sure that our clothes were clean and ironed for school the next day.  I will probably never know how many of our sporting events she sat through even when her "to-do list" was a mile long.  I can't count how many carpools she drove in that big red van, or projects she helped with or much-needed naps she missed. There are so many things that she did for us that she did without recognition, and all of the "thank you for all you've done for us" cards in the world really don't express what I feel when I think of the sacrifices she made for her family.

What means more than what she did, though, was how she did it.  When she prepared meals for us, she did it happily; when we would groggily (and grumpily) emerge from our rooms each morning for breakfast, she would always have something that she had woken up way too early to make for us.  If we were running late, she would meet us at the door with our breakfast wrapped up to send with us, and whether we were sitting at the table or rushing out to the car to try to beat the bell, she would always tell us that she loved us and was praying for us.  She never forgot to do that.

Every day of our elementary, middle and high school experience, she packed us a VERY decorated brown paper bag lunch, complete with snacks, a sandwich, dessert and a note that let us know how much we mattered to her.  I can remember times that she would send a lunch for me and another lunch with me for a friend that she knew didn't have the lunch-packing type of parents.  I didn't really understand then why she would do something like that.  Now I do.  Some people really do practice what they preach.  My mom is one of them.

Every night, my mom would cook dinner, and she saw to it that we ate together.  Sure, there were times that we weren't all there, but those of us that could be there, were there, along with any friends or neighbors that wanted to join us.  I've heard it said that "a good cook knows that it isn't what's on the table that matters; it's what's in the chairs."  My mom demonstrated to us over and over again that she firmly believed this, but I do have to say that her focus on the people at her table never made what was served any less delicious.  My momma can cook.

When she washed our clothes or folded them, she never once complained to us that she had too much to do.  She never let on that it was even a chore; she would actually tell us that she liked to do laundry.  She still says that.  I still (mostly) believe her.  Sure, she'd enlist us to help fold clothes (this was the only way we were allowed to watch TV), but she carried the enormous responsibility of 8 people's laundry almost single handedly.  I struggle to manage 3 people's clothes.  She amazes me.

When she'd show up to our soccer games, baseball games or cross country meets, she never cared one little bit how well we played or ran; she cheered for us unconditionally, and was only disappointed if we played with bad sportsmanship.  She taught us that the scoreboard didn't matter but that our reputation sure did.  She really was our biggest fan, and no cheerleading squad could ever compete with her shouts from the stands.  Still, when we all get the rare opportunity to go see Austin play, she turns heads with all of her cheering.  Sometimes I think it mortifies my dad (who cares a WHOLE lot about sports), but we loved it.  It always reminded us that no matter what happened on the field, our mom would be waiting for us with a huge hug, a "you played great!" and if we were lucky, gummy worms and a gatorade.

Then there was her big red van.  There was a time that that thing was the bane of my existence.  In middle school especially, I felt like all of the eyes of the entire school were on me and that dadgum club wagon - probably because they were- but she drove it anyway, and told us that it didn't matter how we got where we were going and that it definitely didn't matter what people thought.  She wasn't one bit concerned with what people thought of that van; she was grateful to have a running car and told us that we should be too.  I bet there were days that she felt like she lived in that van.  Between six children's obligations and the grocery store, I can imagine that she spent more hours driving that thing around town than I was ever aware of.  On the day my mom told me that they got rid of it, I cried because all I could think of were all of the memories we had in that van: beach trips, trips to North Carolina, cross country trips and even Mrs. Acklen's tour of downtown Mobile for the Azalea Trail Maid hopefuls.  I felt homesick the moment she said it was gone.  "Big Red" had become just another part of our family, and I was sad to see it go.  Four years later, I'm STILL trying to get used to my mom driving her little volvo.  It just doesn't seem right.

What I'm trying to get across with all of these insufficient examples, is that my mom has always been the most loving, selfless, Christ-like person that I've ever had the privilege of knowing.  She set a wonderful example for each one of her children, and she continues to do that even now, when most of us live hours away from her.  I'm thrilled (and quite frankly, relieved) that she will undoubtedly set that same example for Sarah Claire and all of her future grandchildren.  What a legacy to inherit!  There's no way she'll take any of the credit that I give her; she'll say that only God gets the glory and that He gave her the strength, patience and wisdom that it took to parent six children - and she is right.  But on Mother's Day, I think it's at least appropriate to say thank you to her for being such an incredible momma to all of us.  We are blessed beyond measure to be her children, and her immediate redirection of our praise and thanks will just further confirm that.  SO, Momma, thank you for everything that you've done for us. We are all so grateful for you and I know that I speak for all six of us when I say...

 I LOVE YOU!!!!