Today I wanted to write something to commemorate my own mother's birthday. It is coming up tomorrow. What could I say to thank her for the misery she endured when she was sick with the flu as she carried me? (She got down to 97 pounds. My grandma told her that her fever was probably cooking my brain.) How can I write a post that will do justice to the woman who gave birth to me without drugs? The woman with the band-aids and ear drops and ice chips who spent years reading books to me and waiting in the car for me. The woman who has always answered my questions without letting me think any of them were stupid. The woman who has always demonstrated what a loving wife and mother should be. The woman who has always cheered me on and been one of my biggest fans. Even when I did not think I was doing such a great job. She supported me when I was an athlete, a singer, a writer, and a college student. She supports my hobbies. She encourages me as a wife and a mother. We share authors and books and recipes and health tips and laughter and tears. She provides a positive, gentle touch to every aspect of my life. And she is loving my children and affecting their lives in exactly the same way. When I tell them we are going to Grandma Judy's they light up like I said we are going on vacation. So you see, paying tribute to my mom will probably take many posts over an extended period of time. I guess the only thing I can do is say Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you!
2 comments:
I wonder if we love motherhood so much partly because we were raised by women who do?
A-w-w-w! I'm not worthy! Thanks, Valerie. I love you.
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