My Mom was Nothing Special?

And yet she left a lasting legacy of compassion!

I want to write a comment about my mom that may offend you to the point of not wanting to read on. But please read on! I think it will make sense.

My mom was nothing special!

The world knows nothing about her. She was never famous. She was never in the news. She passed away long before influencers were influencers and social media could tell her story. She never received any public awards. Neither her birthday nor the day of her death are marked society-wide.

She was nothing special—as far as the world knows.

But what an impact this “nothing special woman” has had on the world!

My mom, for most of her adult life, was a stay-at-home mom, and fully content to be so. She raised five children. I was the first born, followed 15 months later by my first brother followed less that 12 months later by my second brother (my parents were apparently frisky!).

Five years after I was born my first sister was born. 5 years after that, 10 years after I was born, my second sister.

We had periods of economic security and economic hardship. But my mom made sure to make life good for us no matter what.

She was deeply invested in our lives. She encouraged us to be who we felt called to be. She prayed with us everyday before we headed out to school. She felt the heartache we felt and shared in the joys we experienced.

She was the church organist. Every Saturday she would head to our small Lutheran church to practice for the Sunday service. Her love of the liturgy of worship instilled in me a love for it as well. At the same time, she helped open my eyes to other ways to worship outside of more traditional, liturgical forms. My 41 years as a Pastor, using contemporary forms of music in worship, started with her.

While she only attended one quarter of school after high school, she believed in the importance of education. She and my dad did whatever they could to ensure we got the best education possible.

And when the grandkids came along, she found a new calling (not unlike most of us grandparents). While my wife worked the afternoon-evening shift and I did my school work, my mom watched our little girl, and loved every minute of it. She did the same for all of the grandkids.

She was a woman of deep faith. That faith carried her through some tough times, from her own health issues and financial ups and downs to the compassion she shared with others.

When she passed away almost 18 years ago, I heard story after story from people in our church who had been impacted by my mom’s listening ear and compassionate wisdom. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

I was (and am) that independent first born. I couldn’t wait to get out of the house and on my own. From the age of 18 on, much of my life was lived away from my parents. Even when we did live in the same city (and in the same house for awhile) I was in my own family/ministry world. I wasn’t always as attentive to my mom’s world as I should have been or wish I could be now. My siblings were much better at it than I was!

My dad’s business went bust late in his life. My folks had to move in with us. My mom had to get a job. But being in her 60’s, without outside-of-the-home work experience and no post-High School degree, her options were limited. She did get a job at the mall at a food vendor. But it didn’t last long. Her manager didn’t think she was able to handle the work. I got a call to pick her up. She sat down in the passenger’s seat and wept. “I’ve been fired.” She was so humiliated. And so disappointed she couldn’t help out financially (thankfully we were in a position to help them!). It was heartbreaking.

But she kept doing what she was good at. Investing love and compassion into her family and friends.

The world might not know her or her story. But hundreds of people, actually thousands, have been impacted by her life, and most of those impacted people have no idea that she’s behind it.

She passed away while my wife and I, along with my brother and his wife, were in Hawaii. We couldn’t get a plane out for three days. We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. We had stopped by the hospital before we left but she was in good spirits and looked good, too.

Her funeral was a profound reminder of who she was and the impact she had on so many.

All these years later I still hear from people touched by her compassion and grace.

I saw much of it. I missed much of it. Such is sometimes the story of moms and their sons (or daughters).

But I am who I am because of her.

The world didn’t stop to mourn her passing. No flags were lowered. No national news covered the event. Nothing special.

But often those who are most special are those who live underneath the headlines—the moms, like my mom, who invest themselves in raising kids and grandkids to be compassionate, gracious, and generous; who share that compassion with friends, co-workers, and strangers alike.

Maybe she wasn’t special in terms of notoriety. But she was, simply, amazing.