Monday Memory- "My Lullaby"

  As a child, the click, clack, click of the old manual typewriter was my lullaby.  My mother wrote for the local newspaper, "The Iron County Record" for what I lovingly refer to as shoe money.

As the mother of seven children, it seems that there never were enough pennies to go around.  Mom taught school before oldest bother Kim was born, but she always wanted to be home to raise us.  So, that left one pay check-  My father was  a social worker for the state of Utah and worked two or three other jobs in this field as well.  Mom's "shoe money" paid for exactly that shoes... and well whatever else was needed.

The pay was little, but it helped us get by... growing up on 2nd east had its privileges and well not "keeping up with the Joneses" was one of them.  Four wheelers, boats, and fancy cars were far removed from our existence.  Rather it was who could beat Hugh Cheever in clearing all the snow covered paths or trimming the neighbors' trees.

Mom baked bread, mended clothes, and raised us on grandpa's beef.  She told us stories, did the laundry, played a mean game of Rook, took us to the theatre, sang "Catch a Falling Star," bore her testimony, read the newspaper daily, provided a listening ear, prayed always, and loved us endlessly.  We were her Super Seven!

Now a mother of my own fabulous five, I realize my mom was in fact, "super woman."  How she made that dime stretch-  I shall never understand her magic.  We were fed home made food- every night.  The cookie jar held real cookies, and she never complained.

When I was in the fourth grade, my mom returned to the classroom as the speech and drama teacher at the local high school.  After a few years in this department, she moved to the English department where she taught English and journalism.  She continued to bake bread weekly, make home cooked meals, provide a listening ear, and she gained even more children to love!

Like me, I think she too misses 2nd East and sounds of the ball park near by, and our dear neighbors.  Life was easy when we seven were under one roof and most heartaches and owies could be fixed with a band aid and a kiss. 

I am learning that mothering is difficult.  It is full of sleepless nights, heartache, tears, and lots of prayers.  I try to make home cooked meals, bake cookies, tell stories, sing songs, bear my testimony, and help my children find their joy. 

Tonight, I will relish the thought of my five under one roof.... I will kneel to pray and then dream of 2nd east and the click, clack, click of the old manual typewriter as it softly sings me to sleep.

I love you mom- Happy Mother's Day!

Amyanne


P.S.  Thanks for showing me how to be a "Guardian of the Hearth!"