My Mother Told Me (without knowing she did)

 Osmosis

Almost invisible lessons.

1946

 Every time I whack a wet brush on the edge of the sink to get the water out of it, I think of her.  Then I wonder what else I picked up from the girl who was my mother, in the way of how to do things.  Do I fold towels just like her?  Then there is the huge subject of how she cooked.  I begin to suspiciously watch myself in action, to see if I have seen these actions before.  Humorously enough, at one time, I thought I was nothing like  her.

Isn't this how we get our first acculturation?  We are watching her.  Our first life lessons happen while we are underfoot in the kitchen and around the house and yard.  Before school begins and before father teaches driving or gardening or whatever, there was a woman's legs that you were following around.  And a few years later, when you could see onto the counter and table, you saw all that she did there.

All she was doing is what her mother did.  My mother had a cluttered kitchen.  So do I.  There was no conscious decision.  There will be too many things and no place to put them.  It's like a benign infection.

I believe it is good to become aware of the things learned on this level, the unspoken knowledge of  how things are done.  It's good to judge them for their usefulness and value.  Really important are attitudes and approaches to problems.  Was she patient?  Am I patient?  Did she blame others for her troubles.  Could she stick to a task?  Was she forgiving, among her children?  Was I forgiving among my children?  Did she show respect? Do I?

I am sure I have  mindsets that are ancestral, which I have not examined because they are too close and I cannot see them.  Maybe the Almighty will open my eyes enough for me to see my mind, slightly from the outside.  My desire is to have a cleaner interface with him.