A letter to mom

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By Barb Ickes | Wednesday, November 26, 2008 10:01 PM CST | () comments

Dear Mom,

It’s Thanksgiving, and it’s your 70th birthday. Coincidence? I think not.

What could I possibly have to be more thankful for today?

But I have a little problem, Mom: I have to talk to you about when you’re gone to tell you how truly thankful I am for you. Maybe that’s weird or morbid. I’m sorry if it is. But I want you to know.

Over the years, I’ve told many people’s stories. Some were very sad. And I sometimes kept my head down, so that the person I was interviewing couldn’t see that I was crying, too, as they told about the last time they saw their mom or dad.

When I wrote about Carol dying, people called or wrote to tell me that I would survive it because that’s what people do — they move on. But the stories I remember most are the ones that came from sons and daughters. Their words were the most desperate.

All of them wanted — ached for — the same thing: one more moment. What wouldn’t they give, they wondered, for just one more moment with their mom or dad? One woman didn’t even need to see her mom. She just wanted to hear her voice on the phone. A man in his 60s sobbed when he told me he’d give everything he has to walk into his parents’ house just once more and see them sitting at the kitchen table.

These were people who spent their lives collecting moments with their parents, and no amount of them was enough to sustain them when their parents were gone.

I’m not sounding very cheerful on your birthday, am I?

But I am cheerful, Mom. I’m grateful for this awareness, even though I know it cannot spare me.

I’m thankful because I know now — while I can watch you cast your fishing line into the tree branches at the pond — that we’re smack in the middle of these moments. I sometimes wish I could throw a lid over them, maybe stuff a little grass in the jar to watch our lights flash again and again.

Even if we’re spending too many of our moments in the waiting room of some doctor’s office — under those cruel lights that make it obvious when someone wears shoes that don’t match — I’ve got you.

There’s no stopping the movement of time. I know that. But already I feel lucky to have had so much of it with you. My very being is warmer, kinder, smarter and happier because of you.

That’s why I am willing to shout, unashamed, that you are one of my very favorite people. You and Dad are the ones I call for comfort and advice. You are the ones I most wish to make proud.

You, Mom, are the one who hears my confessions. I cannot count the times I’ve counted on you.

About a week ago, your four girls were working on a little surprise for you (I can’t tell, yet) and were sitting around my dining room table when I said or did something that must have looked very much like you. A three-sister chorus broke into, “OK, Mom!”

It was a proud moment. I feel very lucky to be like you, Mom. And I’m so thankful for it.

I love you. Happy birthday!

Barb

Barb Ickes can be contacted at (563) 383-2316 or bickes@qctimes.com.

Vicki Ickes Churchill: What a wonderful role model you are for four daughters, teaching us how to be the women we are today through your actions. When anyone tells me I am just like my mom, I thank them for the nice compliment, unless of course they are looking down at my feet and seeing two different style shoes when they say it. Happy 70th birthday Mom! I love you. Vicki

My husband the suck up says.............Thank you, Kay, for giving me a beautiful wife and three beautiful sisters-in-law. Happy birthday!

Diane Ickes-Leuck: I am thankful for having such a compassionate, loving, thoughtful woman as my mother. She has set such a great example for me to mother my own children. She delivered four daughters of her own, but mothered so many more. Most of our friends call her Mom, too. She has modeled for many — not only mothering, but true character of heart. I want to be like her when I grow up. I love you, Mom! Your favorite, Diane.

Karen Ickes: I’m thankful that you never gave up on me when I went through my ‘terrible teens.’ I’m thankful for learning so much about unconditional love from such a great teacher. I’m thankful I can always count on you to pick me up when I’m down. Most of all, I’m thankful to be able to call you my mom. Happy birthday, Mom! I love you.

Ben Leuck, 23: I am thankful for my grandma because she’s always been there for every member of our family -- no matter what the situation was. I am thankful for my grandma because someone needs to keep my grandpa from buying something silly at an auction, and she’s done pretty well so far. I am thankful for my grandma because she makes a mean ham sandwich, and those bad boys are my favorite.

Sam Leuck, 19: I’m thankful for grandma because she wore two different shoes in public and that made me laugh for at least five minutes, and she knows all of my favorite foods and makes them especially for me. She’s my Grandma and I love her, and she’s thankful for me.

Anne Leuck, 19: I am thankful for Grandma because I can say something in passing, and she’ll remember it for me — whether it’s that I need new sheets or a comforter or that I love lemon bars. She will do anything she can to help me out or to put a smile on my face.

Ted Leuck, 17: My grandma is the person in my life, besides my mom and dad, who is there for me in good times and bad — like when it was about 30 degrees outside and the score of the football game was 42 to 6 (we were losing) and Grandma and Grandpa still stayed at the game. When the last game of the season was over, and I was crying, I looked up in the crowd and there was my Grandma. She was the first one to comfort me. She gave me a hug and told me how much I accomplished this year and how proud she was of me and how fun it was to watch her last grandson play. I couldn’t picture my life without her.

Grace Leuck, 15: I love my Grandma. Not many grandmas can do the things mine can, like keep my Grandpa under control, or make the most delicious lemon bars. But most of all I love my Grandma because I know that she loves me, no matter what.