Mom's birthday 2010, What We Have Learned from Mom

. . . MISSING LETTERS . . . 
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Mom,

Sara suggested that we all take this occasion to write down some of what we have learned from you.  What I have learned most from you is how to be a Christian.  

Lesson one: It's okay to not be perfect.  All children see their parents' flaws; in the long run, there's no way to keep imperfections hidden from family.  But you showed us that you were not afraid or ashamed to have flaws.  You told us about your problems, past and present, like when you flunked out of college.  I don't know if it was hard for you to share these things with us, but I do know that it made it a lot easier to come to you when I had problems of my own.  I knew that you would understand my failings and still love me.  

Lesson two: It's also okay to expect a lot from each other and from ourselves.  Loving people who have problems doesn't mean that we love those problems.  In fact, if we really believe those are problems, then we hate those problems because they are making the people we love unhappy.  When you ran for the school board, some people made fun of your campaign buttons, which I pinned to my backpack.  Some of the college debaters-- the coolest kids I knew-- asked for buttons to wear ironically.  But I was proud of you, for expecting more out of our school and for working to make those expectations a reality.  Awesome!

Lesson three: We can all be better today than we were yesterday.  And being better helps us feel better.  I shouldn't mention this, because you don't like it when we bring this up, but... you used to swear.  And you don't any more!  You showed us that it's possible to kick bad habits.  You also showed us how to build good habits by getting up every morning to go to Seminary, even though you hate mornings.  Watching you, I could see that it was very possible for me to be a little more perfect than I used to be.  We can break out of our prisons.

Lesson four: Love means sacrifice.  Having more kids meant having fewer things, but I never you speak of our family as a hardship.  And sometimes we were-- me, in particular.  I don't know how you made it through my years of piano lessons.  I am sure you would have been happier spending your time some other way than sitting down on the bench with me to make sure I practiced.  But you did it because you loved me.  (I wish I had been able to see it as clearly then as I see it now.)  You and Dad sacrificed for each other, too.  Your life was (and is) filled with compromise.  Mine is arranged largely for my convenience, and even so I sometimes wish I could drop out of the human race entirely and become a solitary monk.  But you showed me that godly perfection is not achieved through isolation.  Instead, we are closest to divinity as we live together in love.  That's the model that Christ gave us.  (Love one another, serve one another-- right, Dad?)  

So thanks for all you've taught me, Mom.  And happy birthday!

I love you,

JOHN