Why Not? aka My Mother’s Philosophy

Mother’s Day was yesterday.  Do you know what that means?  That means I can finally show you what we got our mothers for Mother’s Day 2011!!  But first:

My husband was asked to speak in church on Sunday, and he did a great job.  He always does a great job, but yesterday was special -not just because it was Mother’s Day.  Lately, he’s been studying up on teaching by the spirit.  He studied his topic (Mothers, of course) by reading talks and researching and then instead of writing a talk, he just got up and GAVE a talk.  No notes.  No outline.  He just spoke the words that came to him because of his studying.  He did do some reading from the pulpit because he printed out a couple of the talks he’d studied, but he didn’t plan out what or when he was going to read from them.  He did an amazing job!  I would have been so lost.  I would have surely said something to embarrass myself because that’s what I do when I get nervous.  While he spoke, he talked a little about his wife.  That’s me.  Hi.

He remarked to the men in the congregation that they should always do whatever they can to help the women reach their potential.  He then went on to say that his wife (me.  hi.) likes to learn new things and that whenever she sees something she likes to learn, she googles it and then does it.

I realized that he’s right. I love to learn new things. I love getting my hands into a project and learn along the way. Then I thought about my sister. She’s the same way. Then I thought about my brothers. They’re the same way! We’ve always got our noses in some kind of informational book.
Gardening.
Bee keeping.
Healthy eating.
Cooking.
Rocks, rocks, rocks!

Why is that? I wondered. Then I realized it all has to do with something we all have in common: our sainted mother. Whether she realizes it or not, my mother has a philosophy that she passed onto all of us. I like to call it The Why Not Philosophy.
As she nurtured the six of us under her wing, she encouraged us to fly the nest even before we were completely ready.
“Do you think I can fly to that branch?” We’d ask in essence, pointing to the next branch over.
“Why not?” She’d ask. And so we would.
“Do you think I can make it to the top of the tree, Mom?”
“Why not?” She’d ask. And so we would.
“Do you think I can fly away, Mom?” We’d ask, shaking in our beaks.
“Why not?” She’d ask, and nudge us to the edge of the nest.
We always came back, and we still do.
Because my mother has never doubted me, I have never doubted myself. My husband has reaped the rewards (? consequences?) of this. When through my reading and researching I come across something I’d like to learn or try, I hold the picture up and pronounce that I CAN do it! And I SHOULD! Because… why not? And one day and a messy kitchen later, I have a loaf of French bread. One day and a terrified sewing machine later, I’ve got half of an apron.
My very first apron, I might add, went to my sainted mother. She regards it the same way a mother might regard a child’s first hand painting… so messy it’s too cute to toss out.
I went through my journal a few months ago. With each entry, I had taken the time to write ten things about myself until I’d reached 100.
I read through them and laughed.
“I hate my nose.”
“I have long legs.”
“My favorite animal is tigers.”
“I don’t know how to thread a sewing machine.”

Say what? That was just a few years ago! Four years later, I made my daughter’s Easter dress. Was it crappy? Yes! But did I thread my own sewing machine? Yes! And all because I looked at three yards of pink poly/cotton and thought, ‘why not?’

It all started when we were little kids. My mother always encouraged us to increase our understanding of anything we were particularly interested in.
With Steve it was nature. He’s now a geology major -soon to be graduate.
With me it was music and writing. I’m now a piano teacher with a degree in Music Education. And I sometimes blog. I guess.
With Ju it was horses. She now has a trained horse and a brilliant agricultural career looming: after her mission.
With JC it was cars. He’s now working the family mechanic business brilliantly.
With Mike it was anything hands on: cars, fixing things, woodshop… he’s now a carpenter with an amazing knack to do anything he sets his mind to. He’s the go to man! The can do man! The one everyone wants a piece of! Just ask any of us.
With Jim it’s art and creativity. He’s still in his formative years, and Ma is slowly coaxing him around the nest, whispering to him words of self-confidence and encouragement.

Steve happened to remark to one of his professors a few months ago that his mother has taught him everything he needed to know to live comfortably while away from home.
“Have you ever thanked her for that?” He asked. Steve called home almost immediately.
I’d like to take that a step farther and say my mother gave us the wings of independence and experience. Did she teach me to cook? In her own way, yes she did! She didn’t sit me on the counter next to her and show me what teaspoons are. She let me open the drawer and discover the teaspoons for myself.
“Can I make cookies, Mom?” I’d ask.
“Why not?” She’d ask.
And so I would. On my own. As I measured out the flour and oatmeal for the no-bake cookies I made for about 5 years of my life, my wings spread a little farther and Mom’s Philosophy instilled itself deeper into my soul.

And now that I’ve left her nest and started carefully building my own, I find myself reverting to The Why Not Philosophy daily.
Can I get married, Mom?
Can I make a studio apartment a home, Mom?
Can I live with you for a little while, Mom?
Can I actually push this little baby out of me, Mom?
Can I make it on my own for a few months while my husband leaves for training, Mom?
Can I have another baby so soon?
Can I move again?
Can I sew?
Can I make that?
Can I grow that?
Can I learn that?
Can I have the world, Mom?

Why not?

Her two words of subtle challenge and encouragement will follow me forever -a constant beckon to never let anything stand in the way of my journey.
“Thank you, Mom” seems ridiculously insufficient.
So maybe you’ll accept this nest. Think of us when you wear it. Think of all six of us. Remember the days when we could only fly to the next branch over. Remember the days when we could fly to the top of the tree. Most of all: remember that we owe our wings to you.

(Granny, Mom, Me and Lacy ~~~~ 2007)
(Granny, Mom, Me and Lacy ~~~~ 2011)

I love you, Mom.