Beauty from Mom
Good Afternoon Everyone,
The weather here in Indy is going to be fantastic this week! It’s still cold but it will be sunny and over 40 this week! Yay! Yesterday I decided to go to the At Home store and look around. I wanted to replace my lampshades. I felt like the ones in the family room needed a refresh. I tried cleaning them over and over and now they have stains so I just purchased some new ones. I love the way they look! I also found some new faux flowers and some new bedsheets. It was a nice shopping trip.
So I recently picked up the newest issue of Victoria magazine (March/April) and I flipped through it quickly to see what treasures they had this month. I came across an article at the back of the book called, “A Lesson in Beauty” by Abigail Wurdeman”. In this article, this woman talked about her mother. The first sentence captured my heart immediately. It said, “My mother creates beauty.”
photo credit: Samantha Stortecky
She goes on to say, “I didn’t recognize this talent when I was a child, despite how frequently other grown-ups mentioned it. “Your mom has a gift for making everything lovely, “her friends would tell me.” The world my mom designed was the only world I’d ever known. I didn’t see what was so special about it until I was an adult myself, fumbling to make a home out of a wood-paneled studio apartment and mismatched dollar store silverware”.
These two paragraphs stopped me in my tracks. I was immediately thrusted into my childhood. I went to our house when I was in middle school. We moved constantly so I could never really call any home my childhood home. But for some reason, my mind went back to this home. I remembered my mother’s colorful furniture, glass dining room table that was set for dinner but we never got to sit there, her items that we could never touch, street incense (never candles), and there was never an arrangement in the house. I don’t remember my home being feminine. There was never any classical music playing just rap. There was never any decor shows on the television, just whatever junk. And then that’s when I realized, how and where did I come from?
photo credit: Mrs. Shockley
Even looking at the photo above, it baffles me. My mother was nothing like what I project. Nothing…. so I still wonder where in the world did I get this inspiration from? I believe that it has always resided in my heart. So now with my daughter (who turned 16 today, yikes) I wonder how she sees me. I hope so much that she will see me the same way this woman in the story eventually saw her mother. She said, she knew (her mother) how to design a refugee, and she knew how to share it with people like me who struggled to create beauty for themselves.”
photo credit: Mrs. Shockley
Right now my 16-year is annoyed with all of my arrangements, candles, pink, and pearls. But when her friends see me they stop me and ask questions and this and that and it drives my daughter crazy. She hates the attention and I get it. But I told her, “Lauren I was like those girls once”. Whenever I saw a mom who had a beautiful home and dressed well I admired it greatly because I was never privy to that. She still rolls her eyes but I just believe that in the future the Lord will open them and she will see how I created beauty.
Have a great Wednesday!
This was a beautiful post. I relate a lot to what you shared about trying to create beauty when you did not grow up in that kind of environment.
Hi Jenny!
Thank you so much for reading and chatting with me. I think there are a lot of us who grew up like this. Not to say that it was all horrible but it would have been nice to have. Have a great weekend!
Mrs Shockley I can relate in some ways. The neighborhood was beautiful until the drugs showed up? Inside my home mom tried to flush out the garbage. There was a curio cabinet with lovely pieces of China. Pfaltzgraff sets, tons of Polish Pottery pieces, beautiful sofas with chintz rose/floral patterns. My mother had impeccable taste. She wore Chanel bags and makeup, Gucci watches, and passed down her Dooney and Bourke and Louis Vuitton bags to me. This was in the 1980s and 90s. Only a handful of my teachers knew what bags I was carrying and were shocked. We went to tea houses and plays, day trips to Boston, the museums and performing arts shows and of course the symphony. Motown, The Carpenters and Barbara Streisand filled my home. It all stopped when our home was broken into and what wasn’t stolen was smashed to pieces. Mom never tried to have lovely things again, until right before she died. The sentiment even among family was we were living above our “race”. Due to that I quit trying as well and I fell in line with what everybody else did. Until I found you, Nikki, Jennifer and other women who thought like me. I found Southern Living magazine and Town and Country all over again. You’ve given me back what I longed for and it gave me validation that nothing is wrong with me or having beautiful things. They are not just for a select few but for anyone who enjoys them. I hope your Lauren will appreciate how living beautifully is absolutely wonderful and how well her mama did it?It’s not about the labels and designers but it’s about creating the beauty around you no matter where you are.??
Oh my gosh Ms. Tracey! This just sung to my soul! I would have adored your mother. How wonderful that all was. Ahh I just loved every second of this paragraph. I understand the comments about “living above your race”. I remember when I was in high school and certain girls would say, “why do I just like the other race”. It’s sad but I kept strong and stayed true to myself and kept on dressing that way. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to be anything else. I was glad when I found other bloggers who adored the way that I wanted to live. Like you it gave me validation. I like you knew at that moment, “okay I am doing just fine”. Thank you so much for the compliments. I pray that you continue to enjoy your beautiful life as well!