Fireflies and A Mom's Awe

My friends and I have entered the lottery for the Great Smoky Mountain firefly viewing. There is a canyon where thousands of fireflies migrate just past Gatlinburg. For several days they do a synchronized light show. A dance. It got too crowded with people a while back so Tennessee created the lottery and only let so many in each day. If one of us is so lucky to get the pass - we must all go in one car, bring flashlights with red cellophane over the light, hike the couple miles into the canyon and then sit down - turn off the flashlight - and watch the show.

Imagine that.

It has been on my bucket list for years to see this wonder. And I think - how amazing is that!? To light up and create awe. We will find out if we scored a pass in the lottery a few days after Mother’s Day. Which, ridiculously, makes me think of me as a mom. Did I ever light up and inspire awe??

I think maybe not. I am a crier. Whenever I tried to get an inspirational point across to my boys - my throat would squeeze, and I would start babbling and dripping tears.

“Ok, Mom.” was a typical response when I tried to make an emotional point that turned to tears and dribble. Did I teach my boys anything, I wonder…did I inspire?

My Mom was an anomaly. She worked after the war, then still when she was married. She had a career in human resources. Stopped when we were born. Her teaching moments typically involved business - which was lost on me but soaked up by my brothers. She died when I was forty so I didn't get a lot of lite up adult moments with her. My kids were tiny when she died. All I remember about us talking parenthood was her usual answer to most questions I posed: “Oh honey, I can’t remember. I blanked most of that stuff out.” Which, in retrospect, I understand to be genius.

I remember she knew every damn Saint’s name and what each of them was the patron saint for. Now saints will randomly pop into my mind when trying to deal with a problem. St. Anthony (patron saint of lost items) is on speed dial at our house.

“Don’t bring logic into parenting!” She told me once. Which made perfect sense. That one comes to me often - like a light bulb.

Sometimes you don’t have to be a lightening bug to inspire awe. When I called my Mom to talk - I could feel her settle in - all the way up there in Minnesota - across (back then) the telephone line. I could hear in her voice that she had nothing but time for me. I am from where love is, I felt. My heart in awe.

We control nothing, I have learned, but can influence much. That even a mom like me - who wishy-washed her way through raising three boys….choking up and mixing up metaphors which I tried to make meaningful and simple. Me - and those of you with me - who are as messed up and screwy as the Purple category in NYT’s Connections! Maybe something we threw out there stuck like perfectly cooked spaghetti on the wall.

The other day I asked Dillon to puleeese talk to Rory about the motorcycle. Rory, being fearless and owning a motorcycle - and Dillon , being the firefighter who operates the Jaws Of Life.

“Why don’t you talk to him, Mom?”

Oh, I laughed, no one listens to me!

“I listen to you, Mom.” He politely texted back.

Huh, I think. Well….a mom can hope. So I settle in. Text him back and forth. Nothing but time.

The Great Smoky Mountain firefly show. Wish me luck.