Today my mom starts a new decade.
It’s almost unbelievable. She is still so young.
But if 50 is the new 30, then… well, she’s the new 50. And a beautiful one, at that. For someone whose life started small—at only 4 and a half pounds—this woman has had a really big impact.
I know she would say it’s been a good life this far. She has one of the most thankful hearts I know.
Raised by Scottish immigrants in a small, tight-knit church community with dozens of aunts, uncles, and cousins, Mom grew up watching her own mother fight a losing battle with MS, and eventually saw her father succumb to Parkinson’s. Before she even reached high school, both of her parents had entered a nursing home.
Mom was led through her teenage years by older siblings, and by the parents of a school friend, with her ailing mother and father doing their best to love her from afar. Here’s a letter her mother wrote from the nursing home. It was written to Mom’s oldest brother, about Mom:
Against great odds, this young woman fought her way through high school, traveled off to college, and earned her teaching degree. Tragically, by the end of college, both of her parents had died.
But, also by the end of college, she had met a handsome young seminary student.
And, not long after, they started raising a family of their own…
It’s a good thing Mom is happiest when she is busy because from then on she’s been busy nonstop:
– Raising two high-energy boys (born 11 months apart) and their high-and-mighty sister. (Kidding, guys. Settle down.)
– Serving and ministering to at-risk and disadvantaged urban kids, alongside my father, for many years.
– Going back to full-time work when her very buck-toothed daughter reached jr. high—so braces could be an option. (Thank you, Mom!!!!!!!)
– Noticing, befriending, and caring for the elderly, the alone, and the struggling—as a habit.
– Loving on her five grandchildren.
– Cooking meals, washing dishes, mending clothes, running errands, opening her home, and continually offering ways to lighten the load for those with a lot on their plate. (Ahem.)
Thank you, Mom, for the little things, like remembering to leave the garlic out the of soup for me.
Thank you for the ordinary things, like emptying my dishwasher when you notice it’s full.
Thank you for the talented things, like sewing the cover for my living-room bench, when all I gave you was a stack of vintage curtains and a verbal idea of what I wanted…!!
And thank you for the big things, like always being there. Always.
.
I love you, Mom, and happy birthday!!
by julie rybarczyk
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