A Lesson in Love

I grew up surrounded by a large family in a time when life lacked the current technology but overflooded with imagination and simplicity. My childhood was easy and full of everything I needed and wanted.

I graduated from high school and went away to college. My younger sister followed a year later and my youngest sister a year after that. My life continued to be carefree and relaxed. I traveled with friends to the beach on Spring Break, attended every concert in the state and shopped at the mall every weekend. Mom and Dad called every Sunday evening. I was quick to tell them every detail about my busy life, but I never thought of showing them the same courtesy.

Until Christmas Eve of my Junior year. My sisters and I spent the day shopping at our favorite boutique in town. The owner was a family friend, so we just charged it to mom’s account. We proceeded to get our hair and nails done before heading home.

My outfit was heavenly, but I couldn’t decide on which shoes to wear, so I hurried to get my mom’s opinion. I started to open her bedroom door when I heard crying inside. I turned the brass doorknob as softly as possible and through the crack in the door I noticed Mom sitting on the bed, clothes scattered all around her.

“Mom, are you ok?” I whispered as I sat next to her. “What’s wrong?”

My usually positive and upbeat mother quickly wiped away her tears.

“It’s nothing important, I’m just a little sensitive today.  I just can’t seem to find anything to wear tonight. But don’t worry, I’ll find something,” she responded.

I looked at the clothes on the bed, suddenly realizing I had seen everything before. As a matter of fact, I’d seen her wear every single piece of clothing many times over the years.

The look in her eyes told me that she knew I understood what was happening.

She hung her head and cried.

“Ever since you and your sisters went to college Dad and I have been saving every penny we can,” she said. “I haven’t bought any clothes in over two years.”

She walked to Dad’s closet and picked up a pair of his shoes. The patches that covered their soles served as silent proof of the many times they had been repaired.

“Your dad has gone even longer without buying anything for himself. Not only that, but he has also slowly been selling his personal belongings in order to pay for your college.”

I couldn’t hear it anymore. A wave of guilt and regret hit my heart as flashes of my careless spending invaded my mind.

Uninvited tears poured down my face as I struggled to say something comforting but couldn’t find the words. All I could do was hug her tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell us what was happening?” I asked.

“Dad and I always considered your education to be our inheritance to you and your siblings.  We’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure you achieve it. It doesn’t feel like a sacrifice when you do it out of love. You will understand it when you have your own children.”

Mom didn’t change into anything new that night. But something inside of me did. It was my view of my parents. That small, seemingly insignificant event deepened the respect, admiration and gratitude I felt for my parents, which I still hold, decades later.

I am a mother of three young adults now. Thankfully my husband and I have been able to provide for their education without making the kind of sacrifices my parents did. Inevitably, though, I relive my small but life changing experience every December. And when I see my girls wearing a new dress for the party that is now held at my house, I think of my mom, and how her tears on Christmas Eve taught me for the first time in my life the real meaning of selfless love.