To My Mom

It's true what they say - you can never fully appreciate your own mother until you become one yourself.

Oh, I've always appreciated my mother, even before I had kids, but until Devlin came into my life, I never had a grasp of what it meant to be a mother or how my mother did it so gracefully most of the time.

My mother immigrated to Canada as a newly married woman. She supported her husband, a graduate student, while working as a nurse. In fact, she supported her family of 4 kids and a perpetually in school spouse as a nurse for many years. With no close family in the country, she relied on her inner strength and sheer will to not only survive, but to succeed and enjoy the fruits of her labour in her adopted country. She learned how to drive a car, how to speak the language and how to entertain guests in a cramped student apartment. Then came pregnancy and a baby.
When I became a mother to Devlin, I don't know how I would have survived without the support of my family, most especially my mother. I had some wicked morning sickness during the first three months, and having my mother there to listen to my whining made it bearable. She came to visit and prepared my favorite meals to accommodate my cravings. My mother was there to heap adoration on her first grandchild when he arrived, but also to provide welcome advice and guidance on how to care for a newborn. I remember being too nervous to give the slippery baby a bath, so my mom did the honours, in the bathroom sink. But when I was born, my mother didn't have that support as her own mother was in a far away country.
She then did something that I know I don't have the capability to do. She and my father welcomed my grandmother, her mother-in-law, to live with them in Canada. Between a new baby, a new life, and having to return to work a mere 6 weeks later, I'm sure having a relative move in was stressful. Yet, my mother persevered with aplomb and grace.
A few years later, we moved into a huge house (or so it seemed at the time) with a huge backyard filled with fruit trees. Not even a month after that move, my sister arrived on the scene. And then my other siblings followed. My mother still worked as a nurse. She did shift work, up until the day she retired. Even though her legs and back must have ached, and she was always short on sleep, she still ferried us to music lessons, and then stood over us as we practised the piano or violin. She quickly learned to be Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the tooth fairy even though such creatures were non-existent when she was growing up in Korea. She grew a vegetable garden and cooked amazing meals. Lasagna, spaghetti, meatloaf, french fries from scratch, turkey, home made bread, cookies and cakes  - all sorts of foods that are not Korean in any way. Of course, her Korean cuisine is amazing, but it wasn't something I truly appreciated until I left home. (Now that she's retired, I keep asking her to write down her recipes.) We hardly ever ate out or had take-out when we were growing up. It was always home-cooked meals, although I do recall Kraft dinner sometimes. My mother was also the mom who baked and decorated special birthday cakes for us. My mother was the ultimate mom who made it look easy to be a working mom. (Which is partly why I always feel inadequate as a mother.) If it was raining or snowing, and she was home, she picked us up from school. She went to every single parent-teacher interview, even though the report cards indicated there was no need. She always knew if we had homework. For my siblings, she went along on school field trips as a chaperone. Every piano recital and every music competition, my mother was present. She even sewed us clothes! At night, she made us say our prayers. She even learned to enjoy camping and cooking over a small propane stove. Although she never quite mastered riding a two-wheeler.
My mother was also, in effect, a single parent for several years while my father worked in various parts of the country and the world. Over the years, I never witnessed my mother getting a day to herself, or indulging in the medicinal glass of wine when we were young. She never got to treat herself first. When she went shopping for clothes or shoes, she always bought stuff for others, and never really got anything for herself. It was easily obvious that we children always came first with her. When I was in university one year, and I was studying for exams, I whined about how tired I was and how I wanted something to motivate me to study. My mother asked me what I wanted, and I answered "doughnuts". It was quite late at night, but she went out and brought back a dozen assorted doughnuts and made a pot of coffee for me.
Over the years, we have often butted heads. Mothers and daughters never have an easy relationship. Mothers want more for their daughters, and they don't want them to make any mistakes in life. It's a concern that's borne out of love. We've had many disagreements. Sometimes they were trivial - like my choice in music or books.  Others were more severe in nature, like my decision to work instead of pursuing a law degree right away. Or getting married. My mother was certain I was throwing my life away, and I was adamant that my mom "sooo did NOT understand me". Yet, I always knew deep-down, my mother loved me.
I'm sure there are many things that my mother still does not agree with, nor understand, about my life and how I lead it. However, she's always there for me. She is always willing to help when she can, and every action she takes speaks of her love. When I got married, she pretty much took over the entire planning of the wedding. I was in law school, 8 hours away from where the wedding was to be held. Without her, the wedding would not have occurred as smoothly or as memorably as it did.
When I had my children, my mother was there. With pots of nourishing seaweed soup (Korean tradition), and willing arms to cradle each baby, my mother came prepared to do whatever she could to help. She spent the night at the hospital when Ceilidh was born to change poopy diapers and keep me company.  With each baby, there was a week of my mother's constant presence as she helped us adjust to the newest family member. I was able to rest and recover while she cooked, and entertained the other kids.
As a grandmother, she is just as wonderful and generous. It was her patience (read experience with 4 kids and persistence) that potty-trained Devlin. While my mother doesn't shower the kids with store-bought presents, it's the unique gift of herself with which she spoils the children. Whenever she comes for a visit, there are homemade muffins or Korean pancakes. It's not a proper visit unless she brings the cooler with her. Or a blanket stitched by Grandma for the dolls. It may be as simple as baking crescent rolls for Devlin, his "special bread". Ceilidh loves the extra attention she gets from her Halmuhnee. It means that she gets spoon fed and stories read to her by grandma.
I don't think there's any gift out there I could purchase for Mother's Day that would ever truly communicate the love and respect and gratitude I have for my mother. So, (and no, I'm not being cheap by not buying anything), this is my gift to you.
Happy Mother's Day Mom, and to all the Moms out there!