The Transformation

I have made the realization that I am becoming my mother.  I can see the transformation happening... ever so slowly... but, happening nonetheless.  Note to Mom:  I am not saying this is a bad thing.  I think it happens to everyone sooner or later, right?

When I was growing up, the Christmas program at Community School was a HUGE event (or at least in my family it was).   Mom volunteered at the school quite a bit.  She worked alongside Mrs. Hannon (our very awesome 4th grade teacher) to make our Christmas Program quite the extravaganza.  Mom worked hard on props and costumes while Mrs. Hannon made sure that all of the songs were just perfect.  Back in the day, we could have programs and music that focused on the birth of Jesus.  Imagine that!   We worked very hard on these programs, and it was always standing room only in the gym (or at least that is how I remember it).  After the program was over, Mom would have the job of standing up and thanking everyone for their hard work. She would make sure that the audience recognized everyone involved... even the guy manning the spotlight (which I think was usually our elementary principal - but let's face it, my memories are hazy). 

Every year, we would end with some big powerful number.  It was usually something like Joy to the World, but it wasn't just any rendition of Joy to World.   Mrs. Hannon would have instructed us to sing with all our might.  So, you would have something like 150 Kindergarten through 6th graders singing Joy to the World like their life depended on it.  Every year the same thing would happen... just like clockwork.  We would really be belting the last  number out.  Just singing our little hearts out.  Then, I would look into the audience.  Mom was always on the front row.  I would see her start tearing up, and then she would be full-on crying.  I never noticed if the other parents were crying.  I was always focused on my Mom.  After the crying attack, she would have to get up in front of everyone and give her little speech.  She would be so moved that she couldn't speak, and I would absolutely DIE of embarrassment.

Fast forward to present day.  I have a little bit of a reputation as a crier.  Wouldn 't you know it.  I end up doing the exact thing that I swore that I would never do.  Jessie and I had a mother/daughter date last night.  There was a fireside at the church for the young women and their mothers.  The fireside featured LDS recording artist, Hilary Weeks.  It was a once-in-a-lifetime event, and Jessie and I were both very excited.  Jessie is moved by music, and I knew this would be a wonderful opportunity for her. 

We sat down in the chapel.  Mothers were seated close to their daughters, and many had their arms wrapped around their girls.  My arm went to sleep, but I didn't dare move my arm.  How often do I get a chance to sit that close to my daughter for an entire hour?

Hilary Weeks opened up the evening by singing I Know that My Redeemer Lives.  Jess knows that this is my absolute favorite hymn.  She leaned over and said, "Please don't cry, okay."  I assured her that I would be fine.  I felt myself tearing up, but I held it together.  A little bit later she sang I am a Child of God.  Jess grinned a little and leaned over and once again said  "Please don't cry, okay."  Much of my last ten years has been spent in Primary.  I have heard this song over and over.  I am immune to its powers.  I assured her that she had nothing to worry about.  I love that song, but it would not make me cry.  And, I was fine... until, she asked the mothers and daughters to join in on the chorus:

lead me
guide me
walk beside me
help me find the way
teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday

Oh, to hear all of those beautiful, angelic voices singing this beautiful chorus.  I cried. Yes, I did.  Full-on cry.  Jess leaned over and whispered, "Could you please stop?  It is really embarrassing me."  And, that is the moment that I discovered that I was becoming like my Mom.

I have to add that I was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ten years ago on December 12th.  As Hilary Weeks was singing her last song, I looked over at my daughter.  I remembered that it was my 10th anniversary in the church.  Jess looked so pretty.  She was wearing my coat and my shoes.  She had on a beautiful outfit.  I couldn't help thinking that time has passed by so quickly.  Where did the little three year old go that stood by my side during those early days in the church?  (I'm sappy like my Mom, too.)

Despite my embarrassing display of emotions, Jessie and I had a great evening. An evening that we both hope that we can remember forever!