The Thing About Mamas

It's been two weeks since my mom's gone back to Korea after coming to take care of me when Matthias was born, and I miss her terribly.  I was more emotional saying goodbye this time saying than when she flew back after Jedidiah's birth.  I think the reason for that is because now that I've had some experience as a mom myself, I see so much LOVE in everything she does.

Anyone who knows my mom, or has even just observed her on some occasions, knows that she is gangsta!  But those who know her closely know how soft she is inside.  That hard exterior coupled with cultural differences caused some major friction in our relationship growing up.  Her way of loving was by pushing me to do better; but instead of love, I saw criticism.  She was always busy providing for our family in some way; but rather than seeing the heart behind her actions, all I saw was her busyness.  This is not to say that she didn't have her tender moments, but to point to the fact that I didn't understand the way my mom loves. 

 My mom coaching my cousin (left), sister (center) and little me in traditional Korean bow, wearing traditional Korean costumes (1986)

It wasn't until I became pregnant with Jedidiah that I started understanding her more and more, and once I did, I was amazed.  Her heart is so big, no wonder I couldn't fathom it.  Her understanding is deep.  That woman has wisdom, depth and capacity to accept, forgive, love, and care for others in a way that makes me proud to call her Mom.  And where there was once so much tension, there is now a peace and comfort in her presence that I find nowhere else.

Everything she does is for us.  While she was here, she twice sent care packages to Korea for my brother, even though our dad was with him.  With her aging body, she bent over backwards to cook me weeks' worth of Korean food, picking up around the house so I wouldn't have to lift a finger, and even doing our grocery shopping (all the while doing the same for my sister across the bay!).  She never came over without something for Jedidiah, whether it was a pretzel or Cars play tents.  But as much as she adores her grandsons, she even threatens them (playfully) not to make things hard for her baby--me.  With a million little gestures like this, she loves, and I finally have the eyes to see that.

The thing about mamas is you never fully appreciate your own until you become one yourself.  And now that I have, all I want to do is be my mommy's baby again.  As I hear my son call for me, "Mommy! Mommy!" in his baby voice, my heart that finally speaks the same language as hers, longs to call for her, "Mommy, Mommy."  It's hard having them halfway across the world!  I am blessed beyond words to have her at all.  I love you, Mommy!