“Your girls are so lucky.”  It was after a TaeKwonDo class, and I was dropping off a classmate home, telling her about my little girl who had (still has!) such a talent for drawing.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We weren’t allowed to focus on anything that wasn’t ‘serious’ when I was growing up,” she said.  “Sports were okay, but not art.”

And I was kind of gob-smacked.  Up until that point, I had really never conceived of a household like that.  Folks that weren’t much interested in art, sure.  But active discouragement?  Why?

Of course I did know, and still know, that I was extremely fortunate in my upbringing.  My folks weren’t wealthy, but I never felt like I wanted for anything.  They argued sometimes, but also made sure we knew that disagreements are a healthy part of any relationship and that it didn’t change how much they love each other.  And they encouraged us (me and my sister) in all of our interests, accomplishments, and pursuits.

But art was kind of a gimme.

We all liked it, all participated in it, in various iterations and forms.  My mother, especially, made it a very central part of our household.  And probably because of who she is, the type of mother she is, I had come to equate it with being one of the central components of a loving home.  Art is for fun.  Art is for joy and beauty.  Art can be used to show someone you love them.

Which, round and round-about, is a long lead-in for me to say that today is my mother’s birthday, and for her birthday I want her to know what a great gift she gave not just to me, but also to my family, in the way that she raised my sister and me.

My mother’s core principals – I was going to say ‘for raising kids’, but really I think it applies to absolutely everyone – are Love and Respect.  In our household, she treated the word ‘hate’ just as bad as if it was swearing.  We were taught to give thanks for everything we take or are given, even when picking a flower.  And she believed firmly that to teach kids, you’ve got to treat them like people.  I’ve tried to instill these ideas and values in my own kids, even if, like any parent, I’ve done so imperfectly.  But I am confident my girls know the value of kindness, and of having a family who loves them dearly and for themselves.

Those core principals, that pillar in our foundation of Being Loving, I know my mother worked hard to show us and teach us.  But there are at least two other very important pillars my mother gave to us just by being herself, which I’ll label now as Art and Self-sufficiency.

I already mentioned art a little bit.  But I should add that it’s got to be at least a little bit genetic.  Just as I come from a lineage of women who really do not care for housework (though we all manage, just as much as is needful!), I definitely am part of a lineage of women who love artwork.  My grandmother loved to paint, in acrylics and oils, and I have many of her paintings in my house.  My mother’s best joys tend to lie with pen-and-ink, and she did the beautiful design and calligraphy for my wedding invitations.  I tend toward collage, and my eldest daughter toward digital art.  We all know the joy and satisfaction of not just admiring beautiful things, but also of creating them for ourselves.  And, it would seem, that is a gift given just as much as a gift indulged in.  I am so thankful it is part of our lives.

But my mother isn’t just super loving, and wonderfully creative, she is also VERY DETERMINED.  She showed us, by her actions, that we can do anything.  That if we have a goal, we should go after it.  We should learn the things that need to be learned, and then do them.  That’s it.  That’s all.  Just do it.  The most common ways this showed up in our home were in the home itself, where my mother sewed curtains and upholstered as needed and wanted, laid tile and linoleum.  Basically did what she needed to make the house what she wanted.  It bent to her will.

And really, that’s what she taught us.  That a home and a family can be built up, steadily and surely, with love and joy and hard work.  Thank you, Mama.  We’re all still benefitting from your lessons.  I love you.

And Happy Birthday!