Friday, March 14, 2014

Goofy Gail

To laugh is a treasure and our family is classic in our ability to find humor in the strangest thing. My father and brother have a long standing repertoire of one liners derived from punch lines of either humorous or slightly ridiculous jokes or slapstick comedy they have been repeated over and over AND OVER AND OVER again for the duration of our lives. In fact, the rather intimate collection of inside jokes we now have are currently being bled into our children. I am of a parenting phase where I am following each thing my children digest from the adults in their life with, "please don't say that at school." No, my family does not have foul language or rude banter, but their humor is somewhat, well, goofy. So I do not wish for my children to go to school and misquote one of us and it come back to us garbled...as it already has.

A few years back we had some family friends over who were discussing the plight of our government's current moral structure. My youngest, at the time 4 years old, went back to school and proceeded to share with her preschool class her newfound thoughts of the administration. Nothing like driving through the parent pick up line having multiple teachers giggle and tell you about how your child shared with them today "your" thoughts on the president. The funny thing of that day was the material of which my 4 year old quoted was not even spewed from either parent. Yet, guess what? We were the one's pinpointed with that perspective as this child is a product of our home.

Growing up I resided in a small town where almost everyone knew everyone and knew their business as well. So my ability to spew wisdom and embarrassment for and from my parents would not go unreported. I knew that whatever I said or did would get back to one of them...or both. So often I would catch myself as many a kid did saying things that were a repeat of my parents. Now, my parents were very good at being cautious about what they discussed in front of me...as I was a gabster at a moderate level. My mom was everywhere gal. In my early childhood, she was a keyboarding teacher at the high school for a few years, the music minister at my church, a meals-on-wheels servant, WMU director of the association, dictation transcriber for doctors, children's choir director, piano teacher, substitute teacher, and probably 4-5 other things that I have forgotten. In my older elementary career, she opened her own business by establishing a music studio just outside of our home - literally 20 paces to the East of our house.

There came a big moment in my life towards my teen years where the repetition of things that were said in my home, both humorous and impacting, took a new turn for me. When I got to the high school in my small town, and began my little independent scholarly experience there, I realized my independence only carried me as far as my name. You see, my family had gone before me in this institution. My brother, the natural genius, had soared and created an impression of what is produced from our home. No pressure. But there was another family member who had impacted my little school...Mom. She only worked at the school for 2 years in the Business Education department, but she had made her mark. All of the faculty members who had shared a building with my mother knew her and when they saw me, they saw her. There is nothing like introducing yourself and having someone say, "Oh you're Gail's daughter." This, too, gave pressure. Often that statement was followed by stories of how precious she was or how sweet or even cute. Mom was everyone's "mom". She mothered us. She mothered her students, both high school and music. She mothered her coworkers. She mothered her Sunday School class. She mothered her pastors. She was a cute little mother hen.

Because she was a mom to all, when I would share little silly stories about recent things she did or said that was just funny, everyone knew the inside joke because they knew her. It wasn't just a story that was only humorous to our little core 4. It was enjoyable to all. Microwaving ice cream. Stomach eating itself. Folgers and carefree gum at the same time. Fa so la. Next gimmick diet. As Seen On TV purchases. That little noise she would make when you found a Christmas present or her discovery of a Christmas present she hid from herself that she later found in July. Going to the beach to never step foot on the beach. Her kindergarten hockey experience. Those are just a few.

My entire life, I have encountered people, even people in the town I now live who knew my mother and not me, who tell me things my mother has said or did. BIG. My mom said naive and cute little expressions. My mom said powerful and encouraging prayers. My mom did silly little things like break out into song with the slightest hint of a word to a song she knew. My mom would get mad at people who hurt her babies (all 1500 of them) and courteously speak her mind. My mom showered grace and forgiveness too. My repetition of things said at my home became more of an echo of the entire community. She was no different at home. You got the same woman wherever she was.

My brother wrote of her parking prayers today on his post and we laugh about it, but my kids even repeat those prayers today. I have spoken of her and it has impacted my girls to the point that what she did and said matters to them as well. Whoo! That'll give you some kind of emotion. They know her, even though they can't touch her. They ask about her ALL the time.

They know her because of others too. We nicknamed her Goofy Gail for some of the cute little things she would say and do. If being called goofy is a reflection of saying and doing things that point people to the greatness of God like my mom did, I want to be goofy too. Happy 72 Mom! Happy 8 + Eternity!

1 comment:

Annie said...

Goofy is good! I had forgotten about the stomach eating itself. I have had yet another good chuckle over that one!! She is, was and always will be precious!!