Growing up on a large North Carolina agriculture farm, I always had a bit of rebellion that I was forced to labor away at “Camp Tobacco” while my other friends were at the beach and enjoying Summer jobs at the water park where they could wear cute little swimming suits with matching hats and a whistle around their neck that made them look like an important authority figure.
A whistle was not part of the necessary uniform on a farm. Well, not the mechanical kind you wear around your neck that is.
“I wish I was not born a Farmer’s daughter,” I remember saying during one of my numerous teenage temper tantrums. (oy!)
Honestly, if I had been my poor Mama and Daddy, I would have traded me in for a decent horse and been done with it. 🙂
My sweet Mama, patient as Job, always said the same thing to me when I was in the middle of one of my Pity Parties for One.
“Bloom where you are planted.”
I’m not sure if she repeated this saying because:
a) She was hoping it would eventually make sense to me if it was reiterated enough. Or….
b) She knew it would drive me crazy, as it usually did. (which inevitably would be followed by a very well-rehearsed show of eye-rolling and stomping away.) Or…
c) All of the above.
With my Mama’s sense of humor, the adult in me (who now has a son and three grandloves) believes it was C: all of the above. 🙂
Later, after I had married my Knight in Shining Armor who wore camouflage and drove a Humvee, my Mama’s sage advice came back to play an important role in my life. Thankfully, age and maturity allowed me to fully grasp what my sweet Mama was trying to instill into my head and make my heart understand.
The Hubbs and I and my son moved about every two years, with the exception of when we lived in Europe for three years. Every two years, a new duty station and a new house, whether we wanted it or not.
To this day, I have a magnet that my Mama sent me shortly after we were married. It dawned on me a few years after she had given it to me, that in a round-about way, she was still repeating what she had been saying to me when I was a self-centered teenager who could not appreciate what I had.
The magnet simply said… “Home is Where the Marine Corps Sends You.” Or, in other words –
bloom where you are planted.
Well, as we are often warned as teenagers, history did repeat itself and I found myself on the receiving end of an eye-rolling, stomping-off-in-anger teenager.
I know being a military child must be one of the hardest things there is to deal with. It’s hard enough to make and keep friends while dealing with all the typical angst’s children must deal with, but to make new friends and finally find a place for yourself in a strange community and school, only to be snatched away to have to do it again and again… and again. I knew it was hard.
I also knew that my dear Mama’s insightful
advice from my teen years would probably be as well-accepted by my teenage son as it was by me.
From My Front Porch to Yours – Treasure Hunt Thursday