Well, in case you missed it, I was invited to give a 5-minute (re- and re-emphasized: Five-minute) talk about my mom at her church today. Mother’s Day.
I called the pastor to clarify his goals and was able to organize the following talk. It was really hard to begin, looking right at her and knowing how she dislikes being the focus, but once I started in with the actual words of the poem I was in control of my voice for the most part. Though I did have to pause a few times.
I’m here today to honor you.
I’m blessed to have this poem apply to my husband and dad, too, but this morning it’s for my mom:
These words are from the poem, “Love” by Roy Croft.
I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.[And then I must change it a bit to say,]
You have done it
With a touch,
With a word,You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.© Roy Croft (1907 – 1973).
I am proud to say my mother is my friend, and I hope she is too. Beginning when I was young, my mother’s availability, acceptance, and ability to challenge me, shaped my assumptions of how friends take care of each other.