I’m not much for Hallmark Holidays, and Mother’s Day is no exception. However now that I am a Mother, the holiday bares a new and special meaning. I look forward to the days when Sunny gifts me a paper plate with her hand prints in blue accompanied by a note at the top that says Happy Mother’s Day- written in her teacher’s hand writing. I always loved to make crafts at school and proudly brought them home for my own Mother. I remember one particularly amazing ceramic plate that I had drawn all over in hot pink markers that later got hung on display in the laundry room- I thought that was so very special. Of course I also thought that my homemade Christmas Ornaments were pretty awesome, but some years ago my Mother started to decorate our tree in the style of Neiman’s and Saks, so my homemade ornaments never get hung for public viewing anymore.
I see slight resemblances between my own mother and me now, with age. Sometimes I’ll see a picture of myself now and see her face. On my desk there is a picture of me age 7 months or so, with my Mother looking right at me smiling. We’re both dressed in our Easter Sunday outfits and it seems rather fitting that I’m trying to sit up and she is kneeling over to meet me. They say once you have your own child you suddenly will know how much your mother loves you- I suppose that’s true but it wasn’t ever a shocking realization for me. For years now she’s been the only person who will sit and listen to my inner thoughts swirling around my head searching desperately for someone to listen to. Now she calls every morning to hear what mundane and often boring things happened in the last 10 hours since we last talked. She’s also is the only person who asks me to share every single thing Sunny does hour to hour. I call her so much that it’s sort of like she is here- only she is not. So no, it’s not shocking that she loves me as much as I love my baby, I always knew how much my Mother loved me, I’m blessed in that way.
We’ve had our ups and downs, often times I act more like a therapist than a daughter to my mother whose own mother was less than ideal. Once in high school I gave a speech where I stood up in front of complete strangers and announced that our family was not “affectionate.” To this day my Mother regards this as her worst parenting moment ever. The truth is, that that IS the truth. We aren’t- but ever since then she tries to give hugs and kisses ( occasionally) at the airport. Oddly enough one of the most distinct memories that I have is her sneaking into my room when for years kissing and hugging me goodnight and her breath always smelled like mint toothpaste. I can remember pretending to be asleep- but having my door open so she would come in and steal kisses.
Maybe I should have said that while I was making my speech…
Differences aside all of our pointless conversations have helped me to understand life, and people, and relationships. I had another moment today where I got some news and I thought, she was right. “She” being my mother, the news being that someones husband had left them, and the right part being that she always knows when something “just isn’t right.”
I’m not sure if I need now or ever needed a holiday to tell my own mother, thank you- for picking up the phone 8 times a day, caring if I got my edit completed, wondering what I’m cooking for dinner, calling to check if Sunny slept through the night, listening when my friend moved away to California, panicking when we discovered we had no suitcase the night before our last trip, and reminding me that NO ONE loves me more than she does…NO ONE. That last statement use to freak me out till I gave birth to my own kid, and now I’m like…She was right!
Happy Mothers Day out there to each of you reading. We’re part of an elite group of women who sacrificed our whole lives for the lives of other people, and I bet, we’d all do it again willingly, lovingly, and without hesitation.
