Mom, this is a letter of honor for you. Yes, long overdue. Oh, there were small moments of honor, but over-all, as a child and even as a young woman, I struggled to be honoring.
If I could have spent more time thinking on the good things and good reports. But my brain was prone to think on the lack, the imperfections, the cracks and nicks. Why did it take me so many years to understand that all this is part of my battle with sin.
I suppose the most relieving part, is, this is everyone’s battle, day in and day out. There is no escaping it, in our own strength. There’s only so far you can go with “the power of positive thinking.”
If I could have actually put in practice, “Do to mother, what you would have her do to you.” I might have, in the process, learned a thing or two about honoring you.
I was not your easy, compliant child. No, I was hard-headed, stubborn, temperamental, and angry. So much so, that being my last name was Born, you would often joke that my middle name was Stub. Toni Stub-Born.
Did I ever say “I’m sorry,” for all my Stub-Born-ness? Well, “I’m sorry mom.”
I have a few “snapshot” memories. I was six or so, and I needed my tonsils out.
I remember crying and carrying on with loud cries and tears because I DID NOT want to go in some room that seemed to be a community room with lots of kids and parents. No!
I remember being put in a private-type room. And then after surgery, I was surrounded by stuffed animals, a new tooth brush, and tons of attention. Did I think I was a princess?
Yes, I believed I was a princess.
Another snapshot memory is the huge scene I made about “hating” my brand-new, (very fine, I might add), genuine leather sandals you bought for me and presented to me the day and moments before leaving for the Barnum and Bailey Circus, the Greatest Show on Earth.
I made a scene, almost to the point of missing the circus. But I wore the shoes, somehow, (I’m sure with great aggravation and struggle on your part), and forgot all about them after being struck with awe and wonder of the Three Rings, the lights and sparkle, the stilts, the elephants, the horses.
Did I realize that not every child had the opportunity to see the Barnum and Bailey Circus? Did I ever say I’m sorry for carrying on?
I’m sorry mom. And, thanks for taking me to the circus. I still remember it today, along with the leather sandals. I remember really liking them as time went on.
I didn’t have a thankful heart. I didn’t naturally think on the good and wonderful things you did for me. Instead, I was critical and had blaming thoughts.
Mom, I’m truly sorry for all this. Why’d it take 57 years for me to say this? You spent time with me to teach me to sew. And you were the one to introduce me to Calligraphy pens. You spent time with me giving me instruction in how to use them well.
To think Mom, it was you who put the seed in me for Calligraphy. I included a handful of the beautiful script that continually flows from my kids.
Thank you.
What about the music lessons? The painful moments listening to me sing. Then the huge investment in voice lessons. All for me. Mom, thank you for investing in me. Singing, playing instruments, teaching others the joy of playing. This is so much of my life today. All because you and dad invested in me.
Thank you. Thank you.
And the dance lessons at the Glenda Falk Studio. It was like a second home. You and dad flipped the bill. Endless hours dancing giving me the heart to dream for a future of musical comedy.
Thank you Mom.
And remember, after your rare trip to NYC, when you brought home the album for “A Chorus Line.” Forget about it, I had a dream to go to NYC and audition for that show. And I did!
I wasn’t cast, but it’s crazy to actually think of all that now.
You were an example of taking healthy herbs and living in moderation. But there was not a moderate bone in my body. I was a powerhouse of energy and hard-headedness, smart, opinionated, and, . . . how you must have cringed at all my hidden insecurities.
I will write now, something I’ve never spoken aloud, but I remember at age 6 or 7, when I drank from my first Coke-a-cola, in the small glass bottle. Like a magnet, the sugar had a grip on me.
What’s all that about? It was an impulsive-compulsiveness growing inside of me, (probably from the day I was born, only to learn later, we’re all born with a bent to sin). Well, you watched it. The craziness of an eating disorder throughout my high school years, and sad to say, it wasn’t until I was 20 before I could finally admit I had a serious problem.
I didn’t know how to eat. I would eat anything and think, “I ate too much,” only to then binge and eat the entire box! Or, I would look in the mirror and think, “I’m so fat.” An insanity was growing inside my mind.
But underneath all that eating and binging, exercising and dance class madness, were huge insecurities, negative thoughts, and an internal angry mess.
I was searching spiritually in High-School, and God was watching me.
I remember looking into the huge, vast, Arizona sky, (because there weren’t huge trees to block the view, just a Saguaro Cactus or so), and “talking to God.”
He heard me.
He sent my dance teacher, my Key Club friends, kids from cheer and FCA to be a witness to me. I made some efforts of change trying to get religion. Doing this thing and that, but it was all effort without . . .
. . . my whole heart. I didn’t have a relationship with Jesus, I was inwardly a mess, still the pilot of my ship.
But no-one could tell, it was all hidden inside.
I auditioned for the American Academy Arts. I got accepted and off I went to the big CA! I did fine for a few years, setting goals and moving forward. Musicals, Summer Stock, in my own energy and strength, and outward courage, after my Exam Plays at the California school, I asked to transfer, if accepted to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, NY School.
I was able to say, “American Academy of Dramatic Arts NYC, Here I come.”
An Arizona girl in the big NYC. The dream to dance and study voice and act- Yes, I was living a dream!
But mom, as time went on,I couldn’t overcome my eating disorder. It got so much worse.
No one could really tell from the outside. This was a hidden struggle.
The insecurities mounted. The anger. The fear. I couldn’t fly home. I had to get it right, right there.
I was reading “Out on a Limb,” by Shirley MacClaine. I sought New Age wisdom, only to be left short of any victory to overcome my compulsive, self-destructive behavior.
My life had become unmanageable.
I needed a Savior. And God found me and He rescued me, in the big NYC. You see, an alcoholic can do a twelve step program and stop drinking, but with eating disorders, you’ve got to learn to eat.
God helped me, to literally, eat. First, through 12 steps, and then continually to learn Who it was that I “made the decision to turn my will and my life over to His care.”
The Bible became my main read!
I was His girl, and He was always with me. He helped me conquer and heal completely my angers, day by day, and my insecurities. I often would think, because this was in that era, of Karen Carpenter, who didn’t get the help in time. That reminded me, this is important.
I gave my life to Jesus, He helped me to finally stand on my own two feet.
Anger was my real issue, and moment by moment, with my mind in His word, my heart seeking His way, and the Spirit leading, He helped me overcome addiction.
He’s still helping me.
So, Mom, I suppose in honoring you today, I write what seems to be a book. A thousand words, plus, but it’s time mom.
And I wanted you to know all this.
And you know, this NYC girl was never going to get married or have kids, (before this change and new relationship with the Lord and allowing Him to pilot my ship).
God had plans unlike mine. He had me meet Mike, and showed me, “This is the one.”
We married and had a few children, . . . or eleven.
I know, you thought your girl had lost her mind. Yes, quite frankly. But they’re all your grand-kids!
As a mom, I try to do my best, and mom, you did your best too. So I want to say today, I’m sorry for all the grief I caused your heart. And thank you, from the bottom of my heart for your love and your endless support.
I could write so much more, but bottom line, it’s long over-due, mom. “Thank you.”
I hope you are blessed as you watch our kids grow. And I hope your heart swells a bit knowing you started the Calligraphy trend, many years ago, when you took the time to teach me how to use a Calligraphy pen.
I’m thankful, that even though I moved away from AZ at 18, social media helps us share pictures and moments, and we don’t have to feel so far away.
I love you mom. I honor you, hopefully better everyday.
Your far-away, and (thankfully) a bit less hard-headed and stubborn girl,
Toni
