It’s been a rough couple of weeks, and today doesn’t seem to be an exception.
But Mother’s Day is coming up, and I’d like to take some time to focus on that – instead of all the other crazy going on.
I’d like to talk about my mom.
Growing up I knew my mom better than anyone on earth.
I knew that when she put on The Righteous Brothers I was going to clean something – whether I liked it or not.
I knew that she was tough.
I knew she meant what she said.
I knew she wasn’t joking when she said she would ground me if I didn’t turn in my homework.
I knew just how funny she could be when she was joking.
I knew how much she wanted to strangle me every time I dragged her onto a roller coaster.
And I dragged her because I knew how much she loved them.
I knew she wasn’t messing around when the box from my CD player came out of hiding.
I knew what would happen if I threw food at her – she would throw it back. And laugh.
I knew what would happen if I mentioned the name of someone famous in the car. A game that could go on for days.
I knew that she had extra ears and more eyes than I could count. How else could she know what she knew?!
I knew that she would watch Grease with me every single time I asked.
I knew she had my back. No matter what. Even when I was wrong, or stupid – she stood with me.
I knew my mom so well.
Until I had kids of my own.
Now I know how little I really knew her.
I didn’t know about the sleepless nights, or the endless worry.
I didn’t know about the tears, and the fears, and the heartache.
I didn’t know just how much it meant to her when I took the five seconds to say “I love you” when I hung up the phone.
Or how hard it was for her to let me be independent.
I didn’t know about the battles she fought with herself, or the wars she waged with others to ensure my happiness.
I didn’t know the sacrifices she made.
I didn’t know that sometimes when I made her laugh so hard she cried – they weren’t always tears of laughter.
I didn’t know how bottomless, how eternal her love could be.
But I do know now.
Because now I’m a mom.
I’m a good mom. Because I had a great role model.
Because of my mom my kids will never walk away from me, or hang up a phone, without hearing me tell them I love them.
Because of my mom my kids will know silly car games and songs long before their time. And they will probably never understand the history of those songs or those games. But they will know them and cherish them as I do.
Because of my mom I will listen when my children speak, I will hear their stories, their ideas and hopes.
Because of my mom I will encourage those ideas, hopes and dreams.
Because my mom taught me the value of hope, and the power of dreams.
And when my day is rough, and I’m feeling lost, I will call my mom.
Because I will want to hear her voice.
Because I will want the comfort and support I’ve always known she will give.
Because I got lucky. And I got a spectacular mom.
So thank you mommy.
Thank you for the three am phone calls and spaghetti when I’m sad.
Thank you for teaching me to value myself, and the people I love.
Thank you for the dumb jokes and the emergency kits.
Thank you for being everything in the world to me, even when I acted like a fool.
Thank you for singing with me, for changing that awful Pearl Jam song every time it came on the radio, because as much as you loved it, you knew I couldn’t stand it.
Thank you for The Righteous Brothers and American Pie.
Thank you for the pajama parties and the food fights.
Thank you for showing me how to be invisible, while teaching me how to be seen.
I love you.
Happy Mother’s Day.