Within the Hard Shell

Within the Hard Shell

By John W. Vander Velden

There are those days that seem extra special.  Days when we are driven to consider important things.  Mother’s Day causes us to think about the people that helped mold us in to the individuals we have become.  Though there is that underlying portion of us which we inherit…it’s in our genes, doesn’t environment have its affect.  And isn’t, it when we are at our youngest, those effects are most pronounced. 

My childhood home was not like yours...and yours was like none other.  Yet home was the evolving place where I spent those important years and with the people that shaped me most.  Though we were a farm family and dad was generally in sight and I found myself surrounded by siblings, mom surely had the greatest influence on us those years.  My parents brought so much of their culture across the sea, but it was through my mother’s actions so much of their history was revealed.  The woman always busy caring for home and family, surely had a share of teaching the work ethic we carry…I carry.  The world I saw those early years was shaped by someone that did her best to shield us.  Much of the darkness, the hate, and the prejudice existed in some place held far beyond our doors and windows of our lives.

Many would consider her just a simple woman, doing her best to live in a world that grew more complex.   The hard shell she showed the world, hid life’s pain and disappointments from even the closest eyes, a sensitivity kept locked away out of sight.  Few took the effort to see beyond the hard exterior they saw first.  And we, her children, felt too busy to notice.

Perhaps one day a year is enough reverence for the woman that bore me, but it seems inadequate as I consider this person that had such a profound influence on my life.  So I offer these few words, an offering insufficient, to remember and to honor one of the most important people I have known…a person within the hard shell…mom.

(349 Words)  5-6-2016