The Apron

Today, I wore the apron that my sister in law (virtual farm girl) gave me to Bible Study Fellowship. I work with the two and three year olds and it is always good to have pockets to hold tissues and such. We also made cinnamon toast with our class today and it was handy for protecting my clothing.

Though I have a small collection of aprons, I rarely think to wear them. Today gave me a new appreciation for the apron. I remember my mother wearing a red and white checked smock type one when she worked with her church group: Mary Martha. I also remember my Mam Mam (my father's mother) wearing one too. They are functional for protecting and collecting. There is something maternal about wearing an apron. Something that says you are safe come sit on my lap or stand beside me and hold my apron strings.

My father wore an apron too. His apron was typically a Sap's Buffy classic red apron. It smelled of broasted chicken, usually a welcome smell. Near the end of his life he wore a burgundy Marketplace apron. The Marketplace was his restaurant. It didn't smell of chicken, but it did show signs of real hard work being done. I spent many a Sunday working side by side with him in my very on Marketplace apron. He was so proud of those aprons.

I did a little research on the phrase "cutting the apron strings" and one interpretation is that "It means too attached to one's mother. And it has a literal origin. In the days before playpens and other devices, a mother would attach her child to her by her apron strings. The child could play nearby safely."

I have to say that until my parents passed away, I'm not sure we'd ever "cut the apron strings". It was such a safe place (most of the time) to be near them. I stayed close by during college and never went farther than Indianapolis. After just a few years in the workforce and living on my own, I returned home in 1995 to help take care of my father in his last months and then stayed on with my mother after he died in March 1996. I didn't leave my mother's home again until I married Troy in 1998. Even then, I stayed in Columbus, and we still made time for each other at least once a week most often more. My mother always doted on us, providing us with little luxuries like special outfits, meals out and presents for us especially the boys. Everyone liked a trip with Omi. She was so generous.

It was hard to have the apron strings cut when she died. When dad died, I still had mom. But with her gone, now I am the adult. I am the one wearing the apron now. I am the one that must make my children feel safe and protected and doted on. One of the ways that I am comforted is through God's Word. In His Word, He says, in John 14:18-19: 'I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live." Or in Psalm 68:4-6a Sing to God, sing praise to His name, extol Him who rides on the clouds His name is the LORD— and rejoice before Him. A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families."

So I don't wear the apron as protector alone. I am a safe haven for my children as God is a safe haven to me. I can take refuge in Him and teach my children to do the same. God stays beside us letting us experience life and encouraging us to align our will with His. Do I miss my parents? Yes, of course I do. Am I alone? No. God is with me, and He has given me many family and friends to stand beside of me, some of them happen to be wearing aprons too.