A Good, Christian Fighting Mother

My mother is the most loving, giving and nurturing woman you'll ever meet, and a closet Nintendo Ninja. 

There are several works-in-progress or half-done sewing projects strung throughout the room.  A light blue, pink and yellow French-rose baby quilt stitched together from my sister's baby clothes is pegged to quilting frames in the left corner.  Looking closely you can see intricate, tiny stitches that would rival the Amish create a detailed quilted pattern.  This quilt has been here for a couple of years. It started as a gift for my sister's first daughter who is now 4.  But, the stitches have to be just right.

The right corner has stacks of cut out aprons waiting to be sewn.  Each was planned with a woman in mind and fabric to match her personality.  The pattern has a retro style to it, with a hole at the top for the neck and a ruffle at the bottom.  Of course they are reversible, because they need to be beautiful on both sides. These are intended as birthday presents for 27 special people. 

In the center of the room is a multi-colored marble maze made of primary colored plastics to entertain children.  It is one of those pull-apart-and-rebuild-again types, where you can construct the maze in whichever order you want: the spiral first, or maybe the wheel, sometimes the funnel or the zig zag. 

Tucked away in the corner behind the quilting frame is an old television with a Nintendo 64 attached to it.  It seems like it would be long forgotten, especially with so many other things around the room, that it almost becomes lost. However, on a special day, you might catch a glimpse of magic in this corner. This is where my mother plays Dr. Mario.  She leans back in the padded banana chair to sprawl her legs wide placing one foot on each side of the old tv on the forgotten armoir and braces herself.  This is her battle stance. Concentration and genius rise in anticipation for the battle that lies ahead. She selects Dr. Mario as her avatar because, that IS the master and main character.  He is the commander and captain of the virus-killing army.  She selects a higher level to play and fire lights her eyes as she gets 3 seconds to see what she’s up against: the amount and array of viruses she will have to kill with copious amounts of colored pills.

The buzzer rings and there she goes! 



Her fingers whiz away on the joystick, coaxing it into obeying her every command.  She stacks the pills perfectly and presses down on the buttons to speed the drug delivery.  4 of each color stacked together and a virus is dead.  Her mind and hands together build complex patterns so that one fatal pill can annihilate several viruses all at once and send open fire to the opposing force.  I'm pretty sure she shouts at the viruses in her mind to die.  I see it in the spark of her eye, but she would never say it aloud.  Unless of course she slips a "stink" in, which sometimes happens-her fiercest battle cry.  That is the closest she will ever get to swearing.  When all of the viruses are killed, a smile spreads across her face and if we’re lucky we might see a fist pump.  Only a tiny one.   She is by nature very humble and this is the only thing I have seen her show traces of pride.  But I love it when she wins.  She gets humbly smug, an emotion I didn't even know existed, but somehow she manages.

This is the one game she loves, because this is the game she will always win.  She says it's because it keeps her brain sharp, but us kids all know the truth.  She'll try to persuade us all to play with her, assuring us that she really ISN'T that good, and that we WILL probably beat her.  But she’s really good at it and beats my butt every time I play against her. My cheeks sting as I think about it.  I am even the next best, or second in command you could say but it is a rare occasion that I’ll win.  I can catch a victory if she is having an off-day.  If she doesn't have anyone to play with, she'll play against the computer on the highest level.  Because winning isn't winning if you don't really win.

Every time I watch my mother play Dr. Mario, I am reminded of Captain Moroni in the Book of Mormon.  He too was a genius in battle and strategy with a passion to fight for a good cause. In fact,"If all men had been, and were, and ever would be, like unto Moroni, behold, the very powers of hell would have been shaken forever; yea, the devil would never have power over the hearts of the children of men."  He didn't glory in killing, but in doing good, preserving his people and strengthening their forts.  He erected small forts, places of resort to strengthen their fortifications and give them advantage in battle.  He gave his life to defend his people and had such charisma and passion as to recruit him to the cause of the Christians. 

My mom does the same.  She works to kill “viruses” that plague our family.  If all mothers were like her, hell would be shaken.  You can see it in her sewing room that stores selfless projects for others and her uncharacteristic game.  She may not be defending a nation and a people, but she fights for me, strengthens me, fortifies me and builds me places of resort.  She only glories in doing good and has an incredible knack of calling me to her cause, whether it be fighting fake viruses or sewing a quilt for someone who needs it.  This is her Title of Liberty.  This is her cause.