Excerpt: 'Chicken Soup for the Soul: Thanks Mom'

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Thanks Mom by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen and Wendy Walker

The authors of "Chicken Soup for the Soul" compiled stories about love, compassion and, most of all, mothers.

In the foreward, former "Good Morning America" anchor Joan Lunden writes about how it was her mother, not her globetrotting father, who brought out the adventurer in her, telling her to "hitch your wagon to a star."

Read the excerpt below, and then head to the "Good Morning America" Library to find more good reads.

Foreword

You can be anything you want to be: the word "impossible" isn't in our dictionary.

VIDEO: The former "GMA" anchor and mother reveals her favorite Mothers Day gifts.
Joan Lunden Shares Stories of Gratitude

~Gladyce Blunden (Joan's mother)

For the first thirteen years of my life I lived an idyllic childhood in a small suburban community in Northern California. My mother was a stay-at-home mom to my brother and me, and my father was a prominent physician in the community. My parents had struggled to have children, and they finally adopted my brother Jeff as a newborn baby. They brought my brother home when he was just three days old. Mom's friends came to give her a shower; however she was in the bathroom sick to her stomach. Little did she know, she was pregnant with me! As soon as she stopped trying to have a baby, she must have become less stressed, and she got pregnant and carried me to term with no difficulties. So I was born less than eight months after my brother Jeff, and we were raised, essentially, as twins.

My dad was an avid private pilot, and we travelled a lot as a family in our plane. When I was thirteen years old, my father needed to fly to Southern California on a short business trip to speak at a medical convention. He had asked my mom, my brother and me to accompany him since it was a brand new plane. Mom said no, thinking we shouldn't miss school. She later changed her mind, picked us up and drove to the airfield (no cell phones in those days to call and say we were on our way). As fate would have it, just as we pulled up to the runway, my father's plane was lifting off the ground. We missed him by a moment. I stood and waved goodbye, totally unaware that this was the last time I would ever see my father. His plane crashed during a bad storm, in Malibu Canyon returning home.

I'll never forget the knock at the door in the middle of the night when the police officer came to tell us that my father's plane was missing and they feared the worst. My mom had been up all night waiting, worrying and was now weeping uncontrollably. Life can change in an instant, and that night would change our family forever. My mother became a widow at age forty, with two young teenagers. She had been active in the community but she was not a career woman; she had devoted herself to raising us. However now she had to take the lead in our family and had to support us as well. So while dealing with her grief, she also went back to school, got her license to sell residential real estate and joined the forces of working moms.

We were typical teenagers; we just wanted life to be the same. I was also a stridently independent young woman and challenged my mom every step of the way. When I grew up and became a working mom, and later a single working mom, I often thought of how I had challenged her and how tough I was on her. So this is not only a "Thanks Mom" but also a "Sorry Mom!"

Mom had always been ferociously protective of us; our home was surrounded by a big wall, perhaps modeled after homes in Mexico, where my parents often vacationed. My brother joked that we weren't allowed outside the big wall. But my mom actually worked very hard to make sure that we were exposed to a lot -- museums, ballet, theater, circus, trips, and foreign countries. She wanted us to see the world, to "broaden our horizons" -- those were her words.

My mom also made sure that she always talked about my dad, and how he had saved so many lives and taken care of so many families, so that my brother and I didn't lose his influence on what we should do with our lives.

My dad had been born in Australia, raised in China before coming to America where he became an oncologist, and spoke several languages. He was a world traveler, yet I think it was my mom who really made me the adventurer that I am. She would often tell me to "Hitch my wagon to a star." She wanted me to know no boundaries and to always reach for the stars. Mom constantly told me that I would do great things with my life. Those were positive affirmations that had a long-term effect. An important ingredient for success is self-confidence, and I got a huge dose from my mom every day.

While a parent might naturally want to keep children near and protect them, it's important to let children go and expose them to new things. When I was graduating from high school I had applied to several colleges. However my mom had other plans for me. Unbeknownst to me, Mom actually took my college essay and filled out an application for me to attend World Campus Afloat, a university aboard a ship that travelled around the world. She told me about her clever deed when I was accepted. That three-month experience changed me and my expectations of life dramatically. It was actually a very selfless act for a widowed mom. I had skipped grades in school so I was only sixteen when I set off for that college adventure round the world and she could have tried to keep me closer to home, but instead she made sure that I had an amazing growth experience.

My mom's influence on my brother and me was enormous. She always wanted us to have a positive attitude, to always try to do the best we could. My mom's friends had always called her Hap, which was short for Happy. And no wonder -- she always saw the glass as half full, and taught me to approach each day with a smile. Mom tried to teach us to be fair, to care, to have integrity and to think big.

Perhaps the quality that I am most grateful to her for instilling in me is never holding a grudge. It's such a waste of precious time, a drain of energy, and frankly it solves nothing. My mom believed in kissing and making up, forgiving and forgetting. If we had a disagreement, Mom insisted that we talk about it, get it out, and then let it go, and it was never long before she would reappear with a smile on her face, as if it had never happened. I loved that. I consider that one of the greatest attributes I got from my mom.

When we see our mom exhibit strength, it makes us strong. When we see our mom "let things roll off her back" it teaches us patience and compassion. When we see our mom challenge herself and dare to try new things, it teaches us that we too can expect greater things of ourselves. Motherhood is one of the most important and challenging jobs in the world! The rewards are rich, but the demands can be overwhelming. Every day we do our best to take care of our home and our family and help make them happy, healthy and successful. It's been said many times that "kids don't come with instruction books." Most of us feel so unprepared when we become parents. However we all have actually spent many years preparing under the tutelage of our moms; we have learned by example and know much more than we think we do.

When I was little, my mom picked me up from school every day and took me to my dance lessons and piano lessons and singing lessons. When I look back on it, she truly was a taxi service. On weekends I had parades, shows and recitals. She was my stylist and my assistant. Yet when we would get home, it always smelled so good in the house. When I asked Mom how she did that, with all the running around she did for us, she said, "As soon as we'd get home I would run right in to the kitchen and put some onions into a pan with some butter and start cooking them, and that would make the whole house smell good." Those are the little things we remember.

I think being a mom used to be much easier in general, for it was more defined and the responsibilities and roles were not questioned. Today we don't know if we are supposed to stay at home and take care of kids, or hold down a job and help support the family, or both. And if we do both, how do we do that, and do both jobs well? Can we be as good as our mothers, who devoted themselves only to taking care of us? Today's mothers juggle many balls, struggle with overwhelming schedules so that their children can play every possible sport and take every special class, and yet always feel like we are not spending enough time… with our kids, on our jobs or volunteer activities, with our mates, supporting older parents, or maintaining our homes.

Now that we have it all, how do we do it all? I remember my early days on television, before working mothers were as common, when I brought my babies to work while I was breastfeeding. In those days I'd start Good Morning America as Joan Lunden and end the show as Dolly Parton! One particular morning I was interviewing a U.S. Senator about then President Ronald Reagan's "trickle down" economics. You may remember that economic theory, but what I remember about that interview is that all of a sudden I was experiencing inflation and "trickle down" firsthand. It was time for my baby Jamie to feed and my boobs knew it. I'll never forget frantically blow-drying my very wet silk blouse during commercial break.

Embarking on motherhood is the ultimate "on the job training," learning by trial and error, and that of course creates stress and frustration. The pressure is really on mothers to make it all work -- the house, the meals, the kids. And for many women, they must do that in addition to holding down a job outside the home. That has left many women worn out, stressed out and unhappy. We all know that when Mom is happy, everyone else is happy. Studies now show us that happy moms mean happy kids. So it's important for moms to recognize how much they bring to the table, having learned from their own moms. It's important for moms to have support and help from their partners. It's important for moms to find ways to get breaks, and to ask for help. If we never talk to our husbands when we are overwhelmed, and we never ask for some equal distribution of duties in the household, then we will remain resentful and tired, and our families will just think we are crabby. It's important for moms to know that their children and husbands are grateful!

That is one of the reasons I am so excited about this terrific Chicken Soup for the Soul book for moms of all ages. I've always loved the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, and this book speaks to me in particular, as I am passionate about this subject -- moms need to know they are appreciated, that they do make a difference, that their children really are listening and learning important life skills and attitudes from them. When you read these 101 stories, you will share in the personal stories from all types of children of all ages, expressing their love and admiration for their mothers.

These children recognize how hard their mothers work and they value their mothers as role models, as leaders, and as the primary influences on their lives. And most importantly… these children, whether sixteen or sixty, love and respect their moms despite the fact that some of them can't clean, some of them can't cook, some of them weren't always there… yes, these moms are not "perfect," but they are perfect for their children!

It's OK to not be everything and be everywhere; you don't need to be "the perfect mom." If you can't be in the car pool line because you are at work, don't worry. My daughters may not remember seeing me every day in the car pool line, but they do remember me at every horse show, every recital, every teacher conference, everything that was important. And if you're the stay-at-home mom who rolls up her sleeves, while your daughter's friend has that "cool" mom who does something, anything, that you don't do, don't worry about that either. Your daughter really prefers you.

I think we all question whether we are good moms. Whether you are a stay-at-home mom or have a job outside the home, you always question if you've spent enough "quality time" with your children, read to them enough or taught them the right life lessons. No matter how organized you are, there are those days when you feel like you can't possibly cook another dinner or wash enough clothes for everyone to have a matching outfit. Motherhood is hard. I know at my house, with two sets of twins, it is loud, messy, and crazy hectic. Kim and Jack are five, and Max and Kate are six. And I still spend a lot of time and mental energy on my three grown daughters, Jamie, Lindsay, and Sarah, who are all in their twenties. After all these years and seven kids, every day I wonder if I'm doing it right.

Just remember, despite all the juggling, the tricky balancing act, and the just plain hard work, I decided to have a second round of children. In looking for a new mate I made sure I found a man who loved children and wanted a family. My husband Jeff is ten years younger than me and we have our four young children, so I am back at school sitting at little tables making gingerbread houses, I am buying and sorting clothes every six months for growing bodies, I am wiping noses and tears, and I am reading silly stories. I love the sound of little feet running down the hall in the morning, coming in to snuggle with Mommy and Daddy. I can't think of anything more fascinating than watching little children grow and learn and become people.

I'm often asked if it isn't exhausting "at my age." I remember having a party when the second set of twins was born. My type-A girlfriends, most of whom had high-powered jobs, walked in and said "Oh my gosh, I'm tired just looking at them all." But the French caterers who had come in earlier looked at the same scene and said, "Oh my, you will never grow old." Two sets of eyes looking at the same thing -- the first set saw it as exhilarating, and the second set saw it as exhausting. My mom taught me to look at life with the first set of eyes, to choose to approach every situation with a smile and a positive attitude. She taught me to never set limits for myself and that nothing is impossible. I love every moment of my life as a mother of seven, a wife, a daughter, and a working woman, and I thank my mom every day for that positive attitude.

~Joan Lunden

Chapter 1 What My Mother Gave Me Before She Died

God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers. ~Jewish Proverb

She's the kind of woman who would say, "Ucch, what a depressing funeral." And so the obvious thing to say is that I want to celebrate my mom. But what I really want to do is share my mom. Not the person who was here the past few months, but the woman who was here the past sixty-three years.

My mother fought to have me. She tried for three years to get pregnant. And I think that struggle always left her feeling thankful for what she had. It is, to this moment, the only rational way to explain the never-ending love she gave to me.

As I entered grade school, my father, who breathes baseball, signed me up for Little League. I lasted one year. But it wasn't until a few months ago that I finally found out just who saved me from year two. Stewie, don't make him play if he doesn't want to play. Even back then, she knew me. And for all of childhood, she nurtured me, growing my little artsy side and always making sure that I could find my own adventure. And she fed it with one of the greatest seeds of imagination: Television.

This will sound silly and trite, but in my mother's honor, I'm not apologizing for it. One of my clearest memories of childhood is sitting at the side of my mom's bed -- the side that faced the TV -- and watching show after show with her. To be clear, TV wasn't something that watched me -- she didn't put it on just so she could go do something else. My mother watched with me. Or rather, I watched with her. Old movies like Auntie Mame, and modern classics like Taxi, Soap, MASH and, of course, our favorite for every Wednesday night, Dynasty. (Please, what else are you gonna do with a son who doesn't play baseball?) Some mothers and sons never find anything they can truly share. But my mom always treated me like an adult, always let me stay up late to watch the good stuff, and in those moments, she did one of the best things any parent can do: She shared what she loved with me.

When I was thirteen, my mom faced the worst tragedy of her life -- the death of her father. My Poppy. Poppy would do anything for my mother, and when he died, I remember being at his funeral. My mom was screaming and yelling wildly because the funeral home had neglected to shave him and she wanted him to look just right. It was a ferocity she saved for people messing with her family -- something I had never seen before and would never see again. And I know she put that one in me, too.

When I think of my mom -- more than anything else -- I think of the pure, immeasurable, almost crazy love she had for me. I remember the first time I gave her The Tenth Justice. It was my first published novel, my first time ever putting real work out for anyone to see. I was terrified when she said she'd finished it. And then she looked right at me and said, "Bradley, I know I'm your mother, but I have to be honest with you. This book… is the greatest book of all time!"

When someone was recounting the story to me a few days ago, he called my mother the queen of hyperbole. But as I think about it, he had it wrong. Hyperbole is a deliberate exaggeration. My mother never used hyperbole. My mother actually believed it. In her eyes, I really did write the greatest book of all time.

A few years ago, I went to the headquarters of Borders Books up in Ann Arbor. And when I was there the main buyer for Borders said to me, "Guess where your books sell more than anywhere else? Straight sales, not even per capita." So of course I said, "New York." That's eight million New Yorkers in one city.

"No."

"Washington, DC? I write about DC."

"No."

"Chicago, the flagship superstore?"

"No."

The number one place my books sell was the Boca Raton Borders, two miles from the furniture store where my mother worked. That means my mother single-handedly beat eight million New Yorkers. Messing with the power of a Jewish mother is one thing, but never ever mess with the power that was Teri Meltzer.

Of course, what made my mom my mom was the fact that that love -- that love that burned in her brighter than fifty suns -- was there even when times were bad. When The First Counsel was published, USA Today gave me a ruthless review. It was the kind of review that just felt like a public humiliation. The headline was: "Make First Your Last." But when my mother saw it, she said to me, "Don't worry. No one reads that paper anyway." It's the number one paper in the entire country!

And when the second novel had bombed and I was wracked with fear, I'll never forget my mom on the phone -- she said to me, "I'd love you if you were a garbage man." And to this day, EVERY day that I sit down to write these books, I say those words to myself -- "I'd love you if you were a garbage man." I don't care where she is -- my mother is always there for me.

Let me be clear: All our strength, confidence, any success my sister and I have been blessed enough to receive, those were all watered and nurtured by the strength of the love that my mother showered on us. When I found out the last book had hit the top spot on the bestseller list, the first person I called was my mother. And of course my mom started crying hysterically. She was so proud. And when I heard her crying, I of course started crying. And in the midst of this tear-fest, I said to her, "Where are you now?" And through her sobs, she said to me, "I'm at Marshall's."

Of course she's at Marshall's, still trying to buy irregular socks for two dollars. It was my mother's greatest lesson: Never, ever, ever, ever change for anyone. And her second greatest lesson: That Marshall's just may be the greatest store on Earth.

In the end, my mother died the same way she lived. She laughed and smiled and enjoyed everything she could get from life, most of all, her grandchildren. They were the second great love of her life. When each of my children was born, my mother said to me, "Now you'll understand how I love you."

She was right. And it was the first time I got to see life through my mom's eyes.

I don't miss particular moments with my mother. I can always remember those moments. What I miss is my mother, and her reactions, and how she never hesitated to tell you whom she hated or what she thought, and most of all, how she loved me and my family with more love than one person should be able to muster.

She once said to me, "I'd saw off my own arm for you." Again, not an exaggeration. Just Teri Meltzer being Teri Meltzer.

That love my mom gave me is my strength. It never. Ever. Wavered. It's like the hum of an airplane engine -- it's there and it never lets up and it never stops -- and you get so used to it, it just becomes part of the ride. But you'd know the second it was gone. My mother's love for us never stopped.

It was a constant.

A foundation.

A law.

It is the pillar that has carried me everywhere and holds me up right now. Her love is a gift that she gave me. And it is the part of her that I hope I carry with me every time my child or grandchild shows me a picture they colored, every time I say thank you to the valet who parks my car, and damn well every time I drive past Marshall's.

I miss you, Mom. And I thank you. I thank you for teaching me how a parent is supposed to love their child. And I hope you know that, in that and so much else, you live on forever.

~Brad Meltzer

Click here to return to the "Good Morning America" Web site.

-- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122. -- This embed didnt make it to copy for story id = 10552122.
Join the Discussion
You are using an outdated version of Internet Explorer. Please click here to upgrade your browser in order to comment.
blog comments powered by Disqus
 
You Might Also Like...
See It, Share It
PHOTO:Oscar de la Renta
Jim Spellman/WireImage/Getty Images
PHOTO: Up in Ash: Mount Sinabung Erupting
Tibt Nangin/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images
PHOTO: Firefighters rescue a woman who got stuck in a chimney in Thousand Oaks, Calif.
Ventura County Fire Department
PHOTO: Apple Pay is demonstrated at Apple headquarters on Oct. 16, 2014 in Cupertino, Calif.
Marcio Jose Sanchez/AP Photo
PHOTO: Defendant Jodi Arias testifies about killing Travis Alexander in 2008 during her murder trial in Phoenix, Feb. 20, 2013.
Charlie Leight/The Arizona Republic/AP Photo