My daughter, Jewely, gave me a book in which I fill in the blanks of my life. I thought I would blog about it instead for all my children to read.
I hope my readers will join me and comment about their own memories as I have fun remembering my life story.
1 Nephi 1: 1, 3 ...therefore I make a record of my proceedings in my days. And I know that the record which I make is true; and I make it with mine own hand; and I make it according to my knowledge.
^^That pretty much explains this blog.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
By Susan Knight
I started this blog a few years ago because my daughter, Jewely, gave me one of those fill-in-the-blanks books.
Instead of filling in the blanks, I chose to blog about it so all my kids could
read my answers, easily, on-line—where they always seem to be. I figured my
daughter gave me the book because she wanted to know about my life, but, bless
her heart, I think she just knows I like to write and thought it would be a
great gift for me. The reason I know this is because . . . she’s never visited
“What’s the name of it again?” she recently asked as I pouted and
tried to make her feel guilty.
I’ve reached that age where I actually do like to write
about myself. Not because I’m vain or self-serving, but because there are
things I’ve done in my life that I really do want my children to know about.
And not just the wonderful and great stuff, but the small and subtle things
For instance, in 1974 or thereabouts, I attended a John
Denver concert in Philadelphia. The reason why it meant so much to me was
because I had just returned from living in Boulder, Colorado for a year. I
confess I wasn’t “into” John Denver before I went to Boulder, but almost
everyone I met was there because of John Denver’s music.
Two of my best friends from high school indulged me and
attended the concert with me. I was in my glory. It was (almost) heaven . . .
I’ve been playing the CD of this concert lately and singing
merrily along, harmonizing at times, reminiscing always. I’m twenty-one again
and at that concert when I play the CD. I re-live my fantastic year in Boulder
where I climbed mountains, pondered my life, lived one with nature, a happy
pauper. In a word, it was a year of adventure. In those days, as a youth, the
big thing was to find yourself. Discovery. I found myself there.
I do so want my children to know how much this music means
to me. I’m not sure if it’s just the music, but also the experiences I had, woven
into the songs. Mountains, nature, splendor, stars, campfires, snow—all the
things that excited my young heart. The thrill of climbing Green Mountain, then
looking down and realizing how small the trees were—and the people weren’t seen
at all. I wrote a song about it.
The Flatirons, Boulder, Colorado
I’m at the age when I want to leave something behind of me. I
want to be sure my kids really know who
I am, even the small inklings. I am the sum of all the rich experiences I’ve
had in my (very long) life. My memoirs are my legacy.
Your Mother carried you inside of her womb for nine whole months, she felt sick for months with nausea (IT FELT LIKE I HAD THE FLU FOR 3 MONTHS), then she watched her feet swell and her skin stretch and tear (I PROUDLY HAD NO STRETCH MARKS WITH 4 PREGNANCIES).
She struggled to climb stairs, she got breathless quickly and even a simple task like putting her shoes on was a huge struggle for her (THANK GOODNESS VELCRO SNEAKERS CAME OUT THAT YEAR OF MY FIRST PREGNANCY. I COULD FASTEN THEM HANDS-FREE BY USING MY OTHER FOOT. YAY, VELCRO).
She suffered many sleepless nights (I FINALLY ENDED UP SLEEPING ON A RECLINER BECAUSE I COULDN'T SLEEP HORIZONTALLY) while you kicked and squirmed inside of her and. . . while you demanded that she scoffed junk (?? NOT SURE WHAT THIS MEANS, BUT I PROBABLY DID IT) at 3a.m., she then went through EXCRUCIATING PAIN to bring you into this world (I DID IT 4 TIMES). She became your nurse, your chef, your maid, your chauffeur, your biggest fan, your teacher, your agony aunt and your best friend. She's struggled for you, cried over you, fought for you, put herself second for you, hoped the best for you and has driven herself insane with worry for you but never has she asked for anything in return because she loves you and did it all on love alone! Most of us take our Mums for granted but there are people who have lost or have never even seen theirs. If you have a loving Mother who did all of this for you, you are very lucky. Never devalue her worth because one day, you'll wish you hadn't!
My "tummy" was twice as big as this graphic, though. Just sayin'.
I never thought I would have enough courage to be a mom. I hope I was a decent one. I hope my children are 100% better at being a parent than I was. I can honestly say, I was 100% better than mine.
I do ask for some consolations, though.
Think about what you do. Reflect well your actions on your family. We are all bonded forever. I don't want that bond broken for any reason.
Always remain true to the values, standards and faith that were painstakingly instilled in you.
Remember who you are, or, rather, who you were when you were under my mom-tutelage.
Strive to be 100% better than I was because I know I was 100% better than my own parents.
Please show me respect. I have proven myself to deserve it (see above).
Know that I love you and always will. I hope you will always love me, too.