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By Karen Brilliant Andrews

I think we can all admit that times today are challenging. We are being tossed around like a lost ship at sea by the news.

Even the daily routine of the entire country has been impacted — coffee shops are closed for inside seating, restaurants not being fully open, social gatherings limited, no concerts. Everything that touches our lives on a daily basis is in upheaval.

Me? I’m not afraid to admit I want my mother. Even if there aren’t magic words, her voice can take me back when she could kiss all the boo-boos away. Just hearing her voice can still bring comfort decades later.

Every family dynamic is different. For you, maybe it was your grandmother, grandfather, sibling, step-father, uncle or neighbor. My mother could help me rearrange myself to muster up the strength I needed for that day. Once I had the direction, my dad took over and helped me to wrap my brain around what was the next step.

Today, I am stretched almost beyond my ability. I just want things to go back to normal! I want businesses to open back up, kids to go back to school, and all the fear to go away. A part of me is heartbroken by what I'm witnessing on the news. And when my heart aches? I want to call my mom.

But Mom passed away 10 months ago.

Now, I could go down that road and get really upset because she isn't here any longer. But I remember a conversation the two of us had decades ago. She was pretty insistent that her memory should never bring a tear, but instead cause me to smile. In all her life, she never intentionally let me down, so she deserves the same. ...I don’t want to let her down. I owe her that.

Now grown, I look back at my small childhood home on Lilac Lane. Somehow everything stayed so calm and stable. How did our family avoid unnecessary drama? How did everyone remain calm when all around us people may be losing their heads? How did my parents keep that hedge of protection around them for 54 solid years? I know God was there, sure. But what else was it?

Times were simple, not complicated, and no drama. We respected each other, never raised our voices at one another and remembered that we loved each other — DAILY.

I let my mind skip ahead and recall the times when I was raising my son. I would “go home” to see my parents, and it was like time never changed. The same meals were being prepared the same way, the same programs were still on TV, and everything seemed to have a little hedge of protection around it. Somehow it would leave me flabbergasted that it appeared my parents had no idea what was going on in the world. It seemed they were so far from the reality I was somehow thrust into as a single mom. Somehow, whenever I would be distraught, we would make a trip to the ice cream parlor or enjoy chocolate cake or chocolate chip cookies.

Now that I'm over 50 years old, I see that it was intentional. My parents maintained that outlook on purpose, making sure life never changed them or their priorities.

Mom had health concerns, yet welcomed each day with a smile and refreshed energy for the new daily gift God had given her. Each day was a gift she was not promised. She only took time to concern herself with things that were within her realm of control. She woke up that day, handled the things God had assigned to her, said her evening prayers and did it again the next day.

She only focused on what she could control on her own. While she could not control her health, she could watch what she ate. She couldn’t control foreign policy, but she could vote. She couldn’t control financial distress, but she could shop when things were on sale, hit up the clearance racks and mend a ripped pair of jeans. She concerned herself for the things that she believed God would hold her accountable for, and prayed through the rest. She knew that God would either provide a way through, or grant her the strength to stand still and weather the storm.

Dad said that Mom had a type of doorway, and she monitored what and who was allowed through it. Not everyone and everything made it through. If not, she said a prayer and went on. She was selective about what (and who) she cared and worried about. Those people she let pass the doorway were the only ones worthy of her love, concern and assistance. Cross her, and you were in danger of being permanently locked out. But once you made it through, you got her very best.

I’m learning to be “intentional.” I’m learning to monitor my own little “hedge of protection” and watching who comes through my doorway. I’m discerning which actions I will be held accountable for, and what I have no control over.  I’m focusing on respecting others, and learning the difference between when I need to talk and when I need to listen. I’m focusing on letting God do His job, and me doing mine.

I miss my mother, but I do have her DNA, and I can rely on it to carry me through. She was a great example on how to live life.

On days she didn't really enjoy my mother would sometimes make her favorite dinner — a pot of beans. And yes, I make some myself. It’s what I’m having for dinner. Black-eyed peas to be exact. 

Sure, times are still tough, the newscasts are horrible, and it all still causes my heart to ache. I wish I could maintain that little hedge of protection we experienced on Lilac Lane. I’m learning what to allow inside and beyond my own little hedge of protection.

My instinct is still to call my mom when my heart aches. In the years before her death, she shared her secrets on how she maintained her outlook and faith. I may not have her in my presence, but I have what made her strong. I have her DNA and her example.

The God that granted her the insight and strength? Well, He is the same yesterday, today and always.

The rest is up to me.

— Karen Brilliant Andrews

Karen Brilliant Andrews, a natural born optimist, is the creator of "The View from Here, A Maine Focus."