Sweet Mother

And she whispers into Abby's ear, "When you get to be a teenager, I'm going to pop some corn and come over to your house for the show because your mother won't know what hit her."



Thanks, Mom. And believe me, I know it wasn't easy. Not until I had my own did I realize how not easy this job is. You made it through the exhausting baby years, the even more tiring toddler years, the tumultuous teenage years, the mid 20s "I know everything, please don't bother me" years, the early 30s uber dependent "What should I do about...? years, all up until now. It was never a walk in the park but you made it and now your reward is getting to sit in the audience and watch your daughter go through it herself with your granddaughter. Revenge is sweet. And so is motherhood. Thank you for making it through your motherhood with me.

At 5, I tried on your make-up and high heels.
At 10, I poured through your nursing books and vinyl records.
At 14, I listened to your cautious words and advice.
At 18, I cried when I moved away from you.
At 24, I became a teacher and thought I knew what it was like to be a mom.
At 32, I had my first baby and realized I had no idea what it was like to be a mom. I also wondered just how the hell you ever did this twice when you were 20 and living so far from your parents.

And now, here I am, some years later and I'm a mother of two. Every day I ask myself how you managed to do what I'm doing when you were so young and (often) alone. You gave up so much of yourself for your kids. You sacrificed a future for yourself - all for us. You got up each morning, went to work before the sun came up and came home after we had already eaten dinner. Your days were brutally long and you did every hour on your feet. You spent your free time at home sleeping to catch up on the rest that you never seem to get. We had Boompa, Boomps, and Jimmy because you brought us back to our home, where we were safe, loved, and taken care of.

If I could go back in time, I'd be quieter so you could sleep. I'd write you more love letters and stick them to your mirror so you'd see them every morning before you went to work. I'd rub your feet and your back because I know they must've always hurt. I'd sing songs with you without being shy. I'd let you buy my clothes from KMart instead of County Seat.

I may not be able to go back in time but I can assure that I finally understand all you've done for me, for all your kids, now that I'm a mom. I suppose it's mother's luck that you get accolades years down the road. I suppose it takes that long for the fruits of your labor to ripen enough to know they had a best friend in you all along.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day.