One Day, One memory

The sun shines through my window. I lay in my bed, knowing I need to get moving or I’ll be late for school, but choosing to linger just a little while longer. Beams of light bounce off a million pieces of tiny dust particles and I wonder if each one could be a microscopic world. What if they are full of millions of tiny life forms? Will I disrupt their world if I move? How could I possibly get out of bed and be responsible for such carnage?


“Jodi?”

My mother calls to me. I’d better get moving before I am in trouble. The third grade waits for no child.

She opens my door. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, I won’t be late, Mom. I am getting up now”, I reply, hoping I am not in trouble for my slow start.

But there is something different about today. She hesitates at my door and I can’t help but notice the question in her eyes. It’s not a look of anger but more that of regret. Although I confess, at the wise old of age of 9, I don’t identify regret, I only know something must be bothering my mom.

“Do you want to stay home today?”, she asks.

“No Mom, I feel fine. I am not sick, just a little sleepy. I will be ok and will be leaving soon for school.”

She replies, “I know you are not sick, but what I want to know is would you like to stay home from school and spend the day with me?”

Is that really a question? Of course I do!

“YES! Mom, yes!”

Let me take a moment to give you some important information. My mom was a single mother. She worked most her life waiting tables to make a living. Just to be clear here, she was a waitress at a truck stop. It is important to note that a waitress in Utah made (and I believe many years later still makes) $2.18 per hour plus tips. While I think most truck drivers are hardworking, friendly individuals let’s be real here for a moment, they also make minimal money and most are paid per mile driven so reality was mom was not getting rich fast. She worked hard. She worked extra hours and worked hard to make sure she could keep a roof over our heads and food on the table so her time was precious. Her time was limited. And she was giving me a whole day? I am IN!

She made me pancakes that day. Strange as it may sound I can still remember the taste of the butter mixed with syrup on a pancake cooked almost too long. I remember so much about that day. It was a Wednesday. I don’t know why or how I remember that so many years later perhaps only because it struck me odd that we were playing hooky from life in the middle of the week. After breakfast we drove to American Fork to see Jeff. Mom seemed to need us close that day. She held on to Jeff longer than she normally did. She had more patience than I was use to seeing. When we got home she held on to me tight. But as a rambunctious, tired 9 year old I could only think of wiggling away to go to bed.

Why did I never ask her about that day? Why then? Why not again?

As a single mom looking back I understand, more now that I could ever possibly comprehend then, the strength she drew from me. I know now the power your children give you to persevere when you want to give up. One smile, one hug, can show you strength from within you NEVER knew you had.

That day will always stand out to me. It will always be a ‘special’ day with Mom. While I know now she did it for a selfish reason to seek validation as a mother caring for her children I choose to remember it as a day mom wanted to ‘break’ the rules and miss work and school for a chance to make a lasting memory.  I will never know the event that triggered it, but I now know there was something, as I have had my fair share of days needing my children. I did not know it at the time, that I was fulfilling a ‘need’ for her. But I can see it now. I hope I was able to help her that day, in any small way, to answer a question, to give clarity or drive. I sometimes feel like I let her down in her later years and I hope she knows how much I love her. I hope she knows that, although it’s late, I see the sacrifice she made, I know the struggles she faces, and I see the mountains she conquered … all for me.

I love and miss you Mom!