It’s funny how life works. Whoever said things come full circle was pretty insightful. As things change and people evolve, life really does eventually work its way around a full 360 degrees.
Coastal Point • Monica Fleming
Jeannie Fleming raised nine children with her husband, including Coastal Point reporter Monica Fleming. Here she is pictured at graduation ceremonies after receiving her master’s degree from Boston College.
You’ve heard people say that they are turning into their mothers or their fathers. That they look just like them and act like them. Well, I can only hope that, one day, I’ll be half the woman and mother my mom is.
My mom, Jeannie Fleming, is 65 years old. That’s young by today’s standards, but it still sounds startling when you say it out loud. She was 36 when she had me — the seventh of nine kids.
When I was growing up, all I ever wanted was to fit in and be like other peoples’ families, where the parents were 10 years younger and had about seven less kids. It was never the amount of siblings that bothered me, just the lack of privacy, name-brand clothing and the fact that we had homemade birthday cakes. It was such a big deal to get a “store-bought cake.” The same goes for a new outfit — from an actual store that wasn’t Goodwill or your sister’s closet — a piece of clothing that no human being had worn before you.
What a brat I was! Seeing those words in print now is embarrassing.
Now, as a mother on a budget, with a close eye on what my children eat and wear and say and do, I can only now see the importance of life’s little lessons disguised in hand-me-downs and homemade baked goods.
My mother and my father, Neil, have been married for 44 years, this month. They have raised nine kids, ranging in age now from 43 to 24. Nine smart, successful and bright human beings, who are now closer than anyone could ever imagine when it was a house full of rambunctious kids with very different personalities.
The older kids will tell you the younger kids had it better, and the younger ones will admit it. And we thank the older kids for teaching our parents how to be parents, and for teaching them to not sweat the small stuff and for teaching them to be more patient.
Growing up, in fact, we had an ideal childhood. My mom stayed home until the youngest was in first grade before starting her career as director of religious education at St. Ann’s Catholic Church in Bethany Beach. She made iced tea and butter from scratch, she sewed pillows and hemmed jeans, and she canned fruits and vegetables.
She was “green” before it was cool, ate organic before it was hip and recycled everything. She knew how to make something out of nothing and have it feed 10. She made dinner, she tucked us in at night, and she made all of us feel special and important in one way or another.
She also picketed nuclear power, protested the death penalty at executions and wasn’t afraid to write scathing letters-to-the-editor about the injustice of war. She’s held La Leche League meetings and book clubs, and has never been afraid to speak her mind. She’s chased speeders down, picked hitchhikers up and even rescued a domestic violence victim from a very public fight on the side of the road. Just recently, at 64, she received her master’s degree from Boston College, after studying each summer for 12 years.
In short, she has a life. And she isn’t afraid to live it.
Along the way there have been heartbreaks and trying times — as all human beings and families encounter — early on, my mother lost one sister to breast cancer, then another, then her brother to heart failure. Both of my parents are now “orphans,” as she described it once soon after my grandfather died. For the most part, though, as a family unit, we’ve had it good. My parents were married, to each other; they loved one another and loved us kids.
My sister Colleen Fleming, who has the unique perspective of being oldest, shared her thoughts on growing up in a family of nine and our mom.
“She is an inspiration as a life long learner, making you realize it is never too late to go for your goals. She never sweated the small stuff when we were growing up with all those kids, (even if it meant you had to wait for a ride after all your other teammates were home eating dinner after a long field hockey practice.) And tradition was always a big part of family life, and that I have carried on to my own family.”
Debbie Fleming, the second oldest of my siblings, shared similar sentiments about the importance of education and lifelong learning.
“In our family it was never ‘how much will it cost’ or ‘how are we going to have these kids in college at once,’ it was always just expected that we would go. Some people wouldn’t dream of starting your own master’s degree with three kids in college, but she did it.”
Karen Adams, the third oldest, has tender thoughts of being the “favorite,” as we all know she is. (Just kidding — sort of…)
“Mommy used to say every family should have a Karen — this is when I was about 2 or 3, and I remember saying, ‘But you would have the real one!’ I remember giving her a hard time every time she would tell us she was pregnant again — but I am so glad she didn’t stop at five or six kids. I wouldn’t trade coming from a big family, [there was] always someone to play with or fight with or hang out with. Now that I am a mom, I can appreciate her even more — her energy and ability to love us all equally. I remember her taking five or six of us to church alone! Imagine. I love her.”
Many of my sisters, now mothers themselves, shared that they can only now truly understand and appreciate all the sacrifices our mother made and all that she did for us. Debbie, who does not have children, said that being one of the older kids in the family has lent itself to giving her a better understanding and appreciation of the role of mother.
“Not having children myself, but being one of the older kids, I feel as though I had that experience [of taking care of children] and it never felt like a chore or like something you had to do to help out. You wanted to take the little kids to the park or play with them.”
After the three girls were born, my parents had two boys in a row — something my mother always saw as a blessing, as they were followed by four more girls.
Brian Fleming, the oldest boy and fourth child, (and Kevin’s brother, according to my grandfather — but that’s another story) explained that my mom can only handle so much of us. And that she still, even though we are all adults, worries about our feelings.
“How about the other day, when she said, ‘I love it when you are all here. Trust me, I don’t want it every day, but it is nice every now and again.’ Now that is honesty, if not anything else! And, before, when she was talking about going on a trip with just Dad and she asked if that was selfish of them. For someone who has been so selfless all their life, she deserves a trip with just her husband!”
Kevin Fleming, “the middle child,” put a new spin on what it was like growing up in such a large family.
“Having nine kids, Mom and Dad always made us feel important. It’s nice to be in the spotlight as long as we weren’t being held by the police or something,” he said with a laugh. “The distraction of eight siblings certainly allowed you the freedom to be left pretty much alone. But they always seemed to be at important events or games even if there were seven other kids intow.”
Amy Hobbs, the sixth child, and “the funny one,” gets serious when talking about our mom. She said growing up in a large family was like having “built-in friends.”
“I always thought Mommy knew everything. I’m still amazed now when I talk to her how much she knows! And no matter how bad something seems, if I talk to her about it, I feel better. Now a mother myself, I am increasingly aware of how much I would like to be like her. She’s a great role model and someone I want to be when I grow up.”
You’ve heard of the second and third child getting the shaft with picture-taking? Well, nobody even knows what Elizabeth Williamson, the eighth child, looked like until she was 3 years old, because there are no pictures to document her life until then. But she has found it in her heart to be forgiving.
“My mom is indescribable,” said Elizabeth. “There aren’t enough words. She is a wonderful woman, mother and role model to people everywhere — not just her family. Her love is unconditional and I can only pray that I can be like her when I ‘grow up.’ We love you, Mom!”
Ann Marie, who, like Colleen, has the unique perspective of being something other than in the middle somewhere (in her case, the youngest), agreed.
“You can always turn to our mom for anything,” explained Ann Marie. “Whether it be help on an English paper, her famous ice tea, or just someone to talk to — I’ve been learning from my Mom all my life and continue to do so each day. She is an inspiration to me and to all my siblings. It’s the little things she does to that make you feel special. One day, I remember, I received a postcard in the mail congratulating me on my A in Algebra.
“Being a new mom myself,” continued Ann Marie, “I hope I can someday be something like her. I remember her saying something funny one Mother’s Day about it being like any other day, that there shouldn’t be one special day to honor your mom — it should be every day!”
So, as life comes full circle, with the births of as many grandchildren as children, I remember the hand-me downs and homemade cakes, and smile. I remember the stories of protests and the pickets, and I’m proud.
The fact that the she had a life outside of our family taught us the importance of education and where it can take you. The fact that she baked those cakes from scratch taught us we have all the ingredients within us to live the life we want to live. The fact that she bought those clothes that had been worn by someone else showed how to survive on little and what was really important in life — family.
Life’s lessons are simple. Who needs a brand new shirt when you can shop in a sister’s closet for free? And who needs buttercream icing when Oreo ice-cream cake tastes better anyway?
This Mother’s Day, as I look back on all that my mother has accomplished, and all the facets of her life that makes her who she is, I realize, only now, why she did the things she did, and I can appreciate them in their entirety. She is a woman, a wife, a mother, an educator and a friend. She found the balance between family and work, between life and love. She not only had her cake and ate it, too — she baked it. I love you, Mom. Happy Every Day!