Mom and My Twinkie-less Lunch

Once upon a time, there sits a girl: freckled nose, wavy hair, on the  cusp of the oh-so-awkward stage, attempting to cover her shyness and vulnerabilities with coolness and confidence. Seated with her pals at a long table on a sticky chair, in a red-painted elementary school multi-purpose room.

She opens her theme lunchbox (not Barbie anymore,  more like “Little House” becoming “Charlie’s Angels”). Inside is a turkey or PB&J sandwich on wheat bread. There is an apple or grapes, and carrots that won’t get  eaten. She may even find a homemade chocolate-chip cookie. However, she will not find a Twinkie.

Then, at the bottom of her box, she discovers a note written on her napkin…

Oh, how my sister and I wanted Twinkies or Ding Dongs in our lunches. Our mom was not the Twinkie type. She was healthy in an unhealthy time: the late 1970’s when processed and packaged food exploded in popularity. It’s not that we never ate processed crud, just not very often. She grew up a Tomboy and farmer’s daughter raised on real food. Mom made our  lunches and cooked for us almost daily.

My mother is marvelous. Truly, to know her is to love her. She is fun, funny, smart, gracious, generous, creative, positive, and my biggest fan. So, then why am I writing about not getting Twinkies in my school lunch?

You see, those lunch memories – what was in the box and not it the box – say a great deal. They represent who she is. Who she was.

She was a mama who put off her dreams to raise her girls. My mind reels at her maturity for one so young. I attribute this in large part, to my Grandma Marie. My mama’s mama was a beautiful example of motherhood.

Back to the lunchbox…  

The girl grabs the napkin and hides it under the table as she reads. She believes she is too old and too cool for a note from Mom. The note says something like, “I love you. I am proud of you. You are wonderful. Have a good day.” This daughter, warmed by her mother’s words, and filled with the courage to face her learning struggles, the teasing of Chuck Chambers, the likes of Mr. Demeaning  Teacher, or whoever or whatever jumps into her path the rest of the day.

This Twinkie-less lunch, this note, this mom, will define who she is and who she will become.

This girl grew up good, even with her insecurities and oh-so-many bumps along the way. The girl faced choices that could have sent her down detrimental paths.  Yet she chose well most of the time because she loved her mama and did not want to let her down.

On this Mother’s Day, I thank you, Mom, for choosing me over your dreams, for doing it the way you did, and for what wasn’t in my lunch… mostly, for what was.

I love you.

PS. Dear friends,

Take some time to reflect on memories of your mom today, and savor them.

Maybe you did not grow up with a mom, or your mother was less than loving. Mother’s Day is tough for you and I am so sorry. Yet, I believe most of us can uproot at least one or two positive mother-memories and give gratitude. If not from your own mom, then how about an aunt or grandmother who influenced you?

If your mom is still living, thank her for these positives.

If she is not living, share your stories with someone dear to you and thank the Lord for them.

 …and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. 

 They are a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck.