My Two “Moms” by Laura Urista

Please follow and like us:

My mom, Charlotte Jean (โ€œJeannieโ€ to those closest to her) passed away nearly eleven years ago. If she had lived, she would have celebrated her 97th birthday a few months ago. My mother-in-law, Teresa, would have been 90 years old this year. But as I write this, she died nearly two years ago.

As I think about my two โ€œmomsโ€โ€”these two wonderful matriarchs I was blessed to have in my lifeโ€”I am struck by the stark contrast in my unique relationships with each of them.

โ€œJeannieโ€

My mom and I had what would be considered a fairly close relationship, but like many mothers and daughters, we excelled at โ€œpushing each otherโ€™s buttons.โ€ Iโ€™ve heard it said that a mother knows exactly how to push your buttons because she programmed them for you. As I grew up, I learned the hard way that there are just some things itโ€™s better not to talk about. It simply isnโ€™t worth all the emotional drama or fall-out. So, while we got along fine most of the time, and there was a lot of love and affection between us, there were also many things โ€œbetter left unsaidโ€ between me and my mom.

When Motherโ€™s Day would roll around, I always struggled to find just the right card that showed my love for my mom but still rang true. Some cards were just โ€œtoo perfectโ€ to fit our complicated relationship. The first Motherโ€™s Day after Mom died, I found myself walking the aisles of a local drugstore, looking at cards and trying to find just the right one, when it suddenly dawned on me that I would never send her a Motherโ€™s Day card again.

For months after Mom died, I had a recurring dream that went like this: I would try and try to call her on the phone, but something prevented me from getting through. Either I dialed the wrong number, or I searched everywhere but couldnโ€™t find the phone, or the phone would ring and ring but there was no answer. After the dreams, I would wake up in a panic, and it took a long time to fall back to sleep.

I finally decided to ask my daughter (who has a Masterโ€™s degree in Psychology) if she had any advice. She told me it seemed like I had some things on my mind that I never got a chance to talk to my mom about, and she suggested I write a letter. After getting my feelings out and putting them down on paper, she recommended that I destroy the letter. It seemed simple, but it was one of the most difficult things I have ever done.

But it worked! Shortly after writing that letter and destroying it, the recurring dreams stopped, and I havenโ€™t had one since. 

โ€œTeresaโ€

My mother-in-law, Teresa, grew up speaking Spanish, and she didnโ€™t speak English too well. I took four years of Spanish in high school, but I donโ€™t speak Spanish very well. So, for many years we did a lot of hugging, gesturing and laughingโ€”trying our best to have a conversation in mixed English and Spanish.

But we didnโ€™t talk about things on a very deep level. We mostly talked about the family, and she would ask about how our two kids were doing. Yet, deep down I felt like I could tell Teresa anything. Maybe because we didnโ€™t speak the same language, I knew she wouldnโ€™t judge and critique me or harp on me about how do things โ€œthe right way.โ€

We never had an argument, which is almost unheard of for a mother and daughter-in-law! What a contrast to the relationship between me and my birth mom.

I have a lot of respect for my two โ€œmomsโ€ and the sacrifices they made for their families. I am thankful beyond words for the many lessons they taught me โ€“ by their examples and by their words โ€“ about love, loyalty, commitment, generosity, faith, kindness and much more. I hope and pray that I have lived and will continue to live up to their examples, and I hope I will pass the lessons down to my own children and grandchildren.

This Motherโ€™s Day I will probably again walk the aisles of a local drugstore looking at cards I wish I could send my two โ€œmoms.โ€ I hope they know how much I love them, although Iโ€™m sure I never said it enough.

I miss them both so much, and I long for the day when we will all be together again, and there will be no more sorrow, no more painโ€ฆ โ€œin a moment, in the twinkling of an eye at the last trump, for the trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible and we shall all be changedโ€ (1 Corinthians 15:51-52, KJV).

Laura Urista is Vice-President of PTM and managing editor of Plain Truth and Christianity Without the Religion magazines.