July 08, 2022

AN ODE TO MOM

A while back, I wrote about attention to details and a valuable life lesson my mother taught to me as an early teen. I remember it vividly, because it was one of those seminal moments in life that has stuck with me and served me well.

We had been walking through the Toronto Eaton Centre and she pointed out some sharp dressed business people, and in particular, their shoes, all polished and shiny.

Her message was that people who paid attention to the small details – like keeping their shoes clean and – had the big details well in hand and under control, and were likely to be successful because they paid attention to details around them and how they presented themselves to the world.

It’s funny, the lessons from our parents that stick in our minds, and continue to serve us over the years.

Loyalty, patience and tenacity to see a task through to completion, regardless of its difficulty, are just some of the lessons ours imparted on the rabble of boys they raised.

As a child born in the early 1940s into a world full of turmoil, war and uncertainty, my mother was brought up to be self sufficient.

She was an entrepreneur before I knew what that word meant. Typing papers for grad students and profs at the University of Guelph. She also had her own little retail store for a number of years, supplying our small community with fabrics, sewing and quilting gear. Many people still have her quilts and wallets to this day.

Mom was a type of quiet servant leader, one that led by example.

The labour of gardens and preserves were early lessons in teamwork. Milk bags in our house were repurposed in the summer as freezer bags for her harvest of beans, peas and chard. Many summer days, our little wading pool was used to wash and trim green and yellow beans harvested from her gardens. The Green Giant had nothing on her!

While none of us were Rhodes Scholarship-worthy, the emphasis was on doing the absolute best you could, and being satisfied with the results. She was, however, quick to call BS if we tried to say we had done our best, when clearly the effort hadn’t been made. She made it clear what her expectations were when it came to education.

She saw the value in being on a team, and yet still encouraged our individuality. Hockey, baseball, cross country skiing – she supported us exploring a variety of sports venues and, yes, we could hear her cheering on her boys and their team from the stands.

She was the first person to tell me that if you put your mind to it, anything was possible.

She was right! To this day, I’m grateful for the work ethic she and Dad instilled into us. I’m grateful for the breadcrumb trail of life lessons she left for us over the years. I’ve absorbed so many of those lessons unconsciously, and they have served me well over the years.

She set the bar high, lead by example and was by no means perfect. A fine example of a human being.

I’ll end with her favourite poem she gifted me so many years ago, and has hung on her fridge as these last difficult years unfolded for her.

If you can hold your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them : “Hold on”;
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings-nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run-
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And -which is more- you’ll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling