My mother, Jaroldeen Edwards, was an author and motivational speaker in the years after her twelfth child began kindergarten until she passed away almost five years ago. She was and still is (in that her spirit and influence live on) a wife and mother first and foremost; but she had more to give than that, and what she gave and what she felt she received from her own parents were eyes to see the true prizes of her chosen life of selfless family centeredness.
In her personal essay, entitled Starfish for Breakfast, she reminisces about a sleepy morning after a day at the beach when my older brothers and sisters thought it would be funny to create a lovely table setting showcasing their inedible oceanic finds. I'll let Mother tell the rest,
It was a splendid prank. As I looked at each ingenious plate- tantalizing despite the pungent smell- I could not believe how resourceful the children had been. I could imagine them as they came up with the idea, whispering and urging one another on until the joke had flowered into something unique and inventive.
All this work, all this creativity, all this delicious secrecy, just to make me smile, I thought. And it did. It made me smile from inside out, from top to bottom.
Such a delightful, intimate, unexpected moment as I stood there in the rosy dawn in that sparkling room and looked at a masterpiece of inventive love.
Then I looked at my plate. At the head of the table, surrounded by a bed of kelp sat the treasure of the day. It was a dead starfish that the children had discovered in a clump of driftwood. They had thought that finding it was a triumph, and now it sat, squarely in the place of honor, in the middle of my breakfast plate.
This blog is my attempt to train my eyes to see as my Mother's saw -- to see inside my children's intentions and hopes. To see a plate of stinky sandy seaweed and dead organisms as the unexpected gift that it was meant to be. I wonder what my natural response to this scenario as a mother would be; probably something like, "very funny, very funny, let's take a picture... -- now who's going to clean up this big mess!"
Fortunately for me, at the end of her essay, my mother outlined a formula (you could say) for at least starting on the road to having those eyes to see. Her words:
It seems to me, if we believe in what we are doing; if we try to love and care for the people around us; if we fill our days with the best of what is in us and work hard if we learn to recognize and treasure what is wonderful and let the rest have no power over us; if we love children and beauty and this great flawed world, we will have these brief moments when everything will come together in a sweet and perfect harmony and in a sudden glimpse we will know it is all better than we could ever have imagined.
If we are wise enough to see them, such moments will be there.
I counted them and there are 6 if's. Now I'm not being like my Mother at all. I'm being more like my Father, but I'm going to abbreviate the 6 if's as:
1. BELIEVE
2. LOVE AND CARE FOR
3. WORK
4. LOOK AND LET GO
5. ROLL WITH IT
6. PAUSE
I think in future blogs, I'll think about these 6 ifs some more. It's true if I am a grumpy Mom I am probably in the act of not excelling in at least one of these areas. I am lately getting better at catching myself and turning around the situation, however, I must say my mother eventually got quite proficient in them all.
Mostly in my blog, I want to share my "brief moments when everything [came] together..." and I knew that my family life was "better than [I] could ever have imagined." Finally, I would like to invite others to share their "starfish for breakfast" experiences as well. They are there, but sometimes there is a lapse or a dearth and remembering and sharing a past golden moment keeps us floating till the next one washes ashore.
In her personal essay, entitled Starfish for Breakfast, she reminisces about a sleepy morning after a day at the beach when my older brothers and sisters thought it would be funny to create a lovely table setting showcasing their inedible oceanic finds. I'll let Mother tell the rest,
It was a splendid prank. As I looked at each ingenious plate- tantalizing despite the pungent smell- I could not believe how resourceful the children had been. I could imagine them as they came up with the idea, whispering and urging one another on until the joke had flowered into something unique and inventive.
All this work, all this creativity, all this delicious secrecy, just to make me smile, I thought. And it did. It made me smile from inside out, from top to bottom.
Such a delightful, intimate, unexpected moment as I stood there in the rosy dawn in that sparkling room and looked at a masterpiece of inventive love.
Then I looked at my plate. At the head of the table, surrounded by a bed of kelp sat the treasure of the day. It was a dead starfish that the children had discovered in a clump of driftwood. They had thought that finding it was a triumph, and now it sat, squarely in the place of honor, in the middle of my breakfast plate.
This blog is my attempt to train my eyes to see as my Mother's saw -- to see inside my children's intentions and hopes. To see a plate of stinky sandy seaweed and dead organisms as the unexpected gift that it was meant to be. I wonder what my natural response to this scenario as a mother would be; probably something like, "very funny, very funny, let's take a picture... -- now who's going to clean up this big mess!"
Fortunately for me, at the end of her essay, my mother outlined a formula (you could say) for at least starting on the road to having those eyes to see. Her words:
It seems to me, if we believe in what we are doing; if we try to love and care for the people around us; if we fill our days with the best of what is in us and work hard if we learn to recognize and treasure what is wonderful and let the rest have no power over us; if we love children and beauty and this great flawed world, we will have these brief moments when everything will come together in a sweet and perfect harmony and in a sudden glimpse we will know it is all better than we could ever have imagined.
If we are wise enough to see them, such moments will be there.
I counted them and there are 6 if's. Now I'm not being like my Mother at all. I'm being more like my Father, but I'm going to abbreviate the 6 if's as:
1. BELIEVE
2. LOVE AND CARE FOR
3. WORK
4. LOOK AND LET GO
5. ROLL WITH IT
6. PAUSE
I think in future blogs, I'll think about these 6 ifs some more. It's true if I am a grumpy Mom I am probably in the act of not excelling in at least one of these areas. I am lately getting better at catching myself and turning around the situation, however, I must say my mother eventually got quite proficient in them all.
Mostly in my blog, I want to share my "brief moments when everything [came] together..." and I knew that my family life was "better than [I] could ever have imagined." Finally, I would like to invite others to share their "starfish for breakfast" experiences as well. They are there, but sometimes there is a lapse or a dearth and remembering and sharing a past golden moment keeps us floating till the next one washes ashore.
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