I wrote this during the intensive “Mother, May I” writing class in response to reflecting on lessons our mothers or other women in our lives teach us. My mother’s three questions kept rising to the surface. I hope you enjoy these few moments with my mom, she was quite the lady.
Waking before the 5:30 alarm this morning, fifteen pounds of drooling, purring feline on my head made sleep impossible. The tap dancing husky asking to out and chase bunnies sealed the deal, I got up shooing everybody out of my way.
Leaving the house at 7 am, we drove to the animal shelter an hour away to pick up our new foster puppy. My husband and I are canine foster parents specializing in puppies, especially ones that need medical attention. I haven’t said “yes” to a puppy in over a year, our lives too hectic to bring in a high-need puppy. I opened the email with the photo of a four-month old emaciated German Shepherd puppy and listening to my breaking heart, I said yes.
Our petite charge has two open pressure sores on her hips and I can feel each one of her ribs, yet she smiles. I tuck her in the kitchen with a gate while I change out her bedding that is stained with blood. I run the towels down and toss them in the washer machine and check to see what is in the dryer.
I run upstairs to take the puppy out, all the while telling the big dogs how proud I am of them. The little miss squats, and I praise her for being clever and watch her eyes light up at happy words.
I let her have some play time in the kitchen while I cook. The weekends are when I prepare the bulk of our meals for the week. Peace comes over me when I open the refrigerator and see stacks of colorful foods ready to be packed for lunches and dinners. I have also boiled chicken for the puppy, she needs the clean protein for her wasting muscles and deformed bones.
Standing at the counter, I could hear the lesson; my mother’s three questions.
“Theresa, when you are overwhelmed and don’t know where to start, ask yourself these questions and then do the next thing.”
“Does everyone have something to eat?
Is there a fresh outfit for everyone to put on the next day?
And a clean bed, does everyone have a clean place to rest their head.”
“Find what is missing and start there. Do the next thing. Not the next ten things, just do the next thing and before you know it, you will have made progress.”
My mother’s three questions are the musical score for my life. I feed living creatures, furred, feathered, human, I want to feed them all. And creatures that are bony ignite a desire that only cooking quenches. I delight in fresh sheets, bright white and crisp to the touch. And I love laundry, sorting piles of fabric organizes my brain.
The lessons go deeper than just a clean pillowcase. They create a framework to fall back on when my life is in chaos. When Justin died, we invited his friends from all over the country to stay with us. We have a house the size of a postage stamp. I didn’t have to think, I knew what to do. I made sure we had food. I bought and borrowed extra towels and had stacks of clean towels waiting for them. We brought the extra bedding down and those resourceful young adults created beds wherever they could find a spot. We did not have a square foot of floor empty. Our house was overflowing with their love.
I still get overwhelmed, life is too big. My mother’s lesson reaches out to me, “just do the next thing, that’s all you have to do.”
Love this even more (if that’s possible) the second time around 🙂
Thank you Dana! And thank you for the great gift of introducing me to “The Inky Path.” I have never experienced anything like it, nurturing and safe. What a transforming place, the freedom to write and not get ulcers worrying about technical details. I was hesitant at first, and then when fear was gone, the deep stuff could get written and shared. Thank you my friend.
Terry, I really love this post! Your mother was very wise. I’m going to remember those three questions! I remember my mom hanging clothes outside even when it was cold. I don’t think she wore heels but she definitely wore those full skirted dresses sort of like the one your mom is wearing in the picture.
Thanks for sharing this part of your life. I think you and I are alike in some ways, welcoming people into our homes, making sure they are fed and have a place to sleep… My home is not always in the best shape, but I won’t turn anyone away.
Blessings to you and may God continue to bring you comfort every day of your life, because I know it must still be so hard… xo
Dear Gayl, thank you for the gift of your time to visit and to write. My mom would hang clothes outside in the cold also, they would smell so fresh and clean.
I think we are kindred souls indeed Gayl. Our house is topsy turvy right now, but there are always cookies in a tin and plenty of coffee for anyone who stops by, much of our childhood took place around the table with food and conversation.
Thank you for your prayers and kind thoughts, I do miss that boy. Thank you for remembering him. Wishing you a very peace filled week.
Sigh. Again, thank you for inviting me in for coffee and a visit. ????
Thank you Laurie! One day we are going to have to sit real time! Much love to you and your house!
Nothing fancy to say. I just love to read your words!
No need for fancy, your words are sweet and touch my heart! Thank you for the gift of your time for visiting! Wishing you a peace filled evening Anne.
Your mom was a wise women. “Just do the next thing” is such simple, yet very deep advise. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past 7 months. And it works (except for the days it doesn’t 🙂 ).
And on those days when it isn’t working, we wrap ourselves in our favorite soft clothes, the very softest socks, and know that we have done the next thing – self-care. Thinking of you and remembering your Clara. Wishing you some gentle moments. Thank you for your visit and the gift of your time to write a note.
Your mother had a wonderful perspective on things. I love this – “Find what is missing and start there. Do the next thing. Not the next ten things, just do the next thing and before you know it, you will have made progress.” It’s so easy to get overwhelmed with ALL THE THINGS and freeze but yes…just start on the first thing.
Thank you Bonnie for visiting and writing. It is easy to freeze, I still do. But if I can just do the next thing, even if it is to just put away dishes, it can get me started and lighten my heart. Thank you again. I hope you have a peace filled evening.
This is lovely. I can feel myself relax just reading it. Those lessons, in as few words as possible, are treasures, aren’t they? I look forward to reading more of your blog 🙂
Thank you so much Maggie for the gift of your visit and the time you took to write. They are treasures, and she kept them simple and easy to remember. They have certainly pulled me out of dark places. Looking forward to sharing more posts from you too. Wishing you a peace filled evening.
How fitting that you posted this on what would have been my Mom’s 98th birthday. She’s been gone 50 years but she taught me a lot in the brief time she was in my life. I shared this.
Their birthdays are bittersweet, my mom has been gone almost 21 years and I miss her more now than ever. I am so sorry for your loss, that’s a long time to be without your mom. My dad has been dead 40 years and I think of him every day. Thank you for sharing. And thank you for the gift of your visit and the time that you took to write a note. Wishing you some gentle moments.
Your mother was so right. And once again I marvel at the beauty of your writing. Count me a fan, Terri!
Dear Helene, thank you so much for your visit and encouraging words. Your words lift my heart, thank you.