Jason and I don't particularly mark mother's day, because it just doesn't make much sense to us (along with Valentine's, St Patrick's, and Father's day). I decided to make an exception this year. There's a new book that I'm not that interested in, but the premise lead me to reflect on the things I carry through my life that my mother gave me.
She was pretty stubborn, and this was mostly a good thing. It meant she led a pretty normal life in spite of a serious physical handicap. She left me feeling I just could not back away from a problem, unless it was for a flanking maneuver.
She was pretty demanding. The thing I do that I think is a reaction to this is I bristle very quickly when I feel bullied or pressured. I also do not keep people on a line when I know they have their own agendas. With age, I've come to realize this demanding quality was probably related to her handicap; she was a real powerhouse, and it must have been extremely frustrating to see a job and not be able to do it herself.
I believe I can do just about anything I want, as well as knowing I get to decide what I want to do. I think she did a nice job of accepting us as we were and being excited for us (or angry) relative to the things we set out to accomplish. I do not remember much pressure from her to become some particular type of person or profession.
She was good at apologizing. I thank her memory often when I find myself knowing I can admit a mistake and fix it.
She was the anti- example regarding minding my temper. I still do not think claiming Irish blood entitles one to temper tantrums.
She left me feeling sure of her love, and knowing that as flawed as I am as a parent, my children can still feel my love.