Things I Want to Teach the Boys #2

I'm sure that many of these 'teach the boys stuff' type of posts will revolve around things my Dad taught me.  That seems to be the natural order of things for sons and fathers.  And, well, my Dad has taught me lots of things and is still teaching me to this day.


Tonight though, I want to share something my Mom taught me.


How to be gentle.



Mom had lots of sayings while I was growing up.  And I mean lots.  But the two I remember hearing most were "Mind your P's and Q's" and "There but for the grace of God go I".   If you were a cynic and could listen in to my childhood, you might think my Mom was the Queen of cliches.  But you would be wrong.  What you would actually have heard was a Mom, trying to teach her son to be gentle.


Minding your P's and Q's is probably obvious to most folks today (although a trip to walmart might quase you to quibble over that).  Although there are several theories regarding the origin of the phrase, I think most people recognize it as a reminder to children to use their manners.  Remember to say please and thank you.  To a young child learning to talk, that thank you is shortened to Q.  Just give Quinn or Elliott a cookie and they'll 'Q' you.


So, that first saying was teaching me to be a gentleman.  To say please and thank you, the foundation upon which all other gentlemanly behaviors are built upon.  I heard the phrase over and over and over again, until it, and the behaviors it emphasized, finally sunk in.


And lest you think my Mom was a complete softy, soap was used on occasion in response to other, less gentlemanly utterances.


There but for the grace of God go I is a bit more.  Well, it was for Mom anyway.  It seems to have more than one meaning.  Most people know the phrase as a proverb, a way of referring to someone else's misfortune while understanding it could be you in those shoes if not for God watching over you.  That they are just as virtuous as you, but you got lucky- God's grace.


Except we grew up in a house that was wasn't really religious.  So 'God's Grace' could mean anything from regular old luck to some type of Universal Karma just waiting to lay down the smack if you got to big for your britches.  When Mom said it, what she meant was try not to judge others.  Or if you are judging, then judge gently, because it could be you in those shoes.  She meant don't look at others harshly, and treat them gently, because it could just as easily be you.  It had lots of meanings for Mom, and she was able to impart most of them to me.


Looking back now, I'm amazed at how gentle Mom was.  The extraordinary patience she had for my sister and I.  Well, mostly me.  Lynn didn't seem to test the boundaries quite as much or quite as often.  How gentle she was with her students.  And how much more gentle she was with their parents.  How gentle she was with people who really didn't seem to deserve it.


So, she didn't teach me to be gentle with just a few oft repeated phrases.  She let me see it.  She showed me how to be gentle, by treating others gently.  And not just with people.  Animals too.  I remember several pets that no one wanted that found a home thanks to my Mother's gentle nature.  No one in my family will forget Squirmels.  Squirmel's was a tiny black poodle.  I don't remember where she came from, but she was no one's favorite pet.  Her two talents seemed to be squirming (duh) and mining the floor with smelly little poodle bombs.  To be honest, I'm not even sure how much Mom liked her.  But, Mom made room for her and the dog begrudgingly, but eventually found a place in our home and hearts.


Again, I don't want you to think mom was a total softy.  I can remember one incident where I came close to getting a smack across the face from Mom.  I don't know what I did or said, but I remember Mom's trademark look; the flared nostrils, the single arched eyebrow... Clear warning that you had crossed the line.  But even then, though the hand was raised and ready, she stopped when I did.  Harsh only as long as needed, and just as ready to be gentle again.  


My fondest memory of Mom's hands, the one I cherish most, is not the almost smack (that I'm sure I richly deserved).  It's the way she woke me up, every morning, for school.


Mom would come into my room, softly, quietly.  She would sit on the side of my bed.  And she would scratch my back.  Gently at first, and then as I began to stir, a little harder, until I was awake.  After her, I was always the next one up in the morning.  And I loved waking up that way.  


This afternoon I had to wake the boys up.  If they sleep to late, bedtime turns into a battle royal.  Guess how I woke them.  And just like me, they stirred softly at first.  And then rolled over with smiles.  Who knew that gentle back scratching was the way to make sure the ones you love wake up on the right side of the bed?  Apparently Mom did.


And now I do too.


There are lots of definitions for the word Gentle.  Noble.  Kindly in disposition.  Not harsh or severe.  Well born.  Amiable and Tender.


You could look it up yourself.  Or you could just look at my Mom.  She is the embodiment of gentle.  Everything good the word could mean.


Thank you Mom for being gentle and teaching me to be gentle.  Thanks for continuing to show me how to be both gentle and a gentleman.  You are brave, and noble; considerate and tender.  I hope I can live up to your example.  Both by being gentle myself and by teaching the boys to be as well.  There but for Mom's grace go I and all that...




I think the back scratching is a good start.