For my Mom

There is nothing quite like the relationship one shares with their mother.  Not everyone has a great relationship with their mom, but I’m one of the lucky ones. 

Our relationship has evolved, as long term relationships always do.  From my full dependence on her, to fledgling independence, closely followed by the teenage years where my mom was always wrong, and around FAR too much for my liking.  And then, as quickly as the resentment had appeared, it disappeared and left me with an appreciation for my mom that I had never had before.

She didn’t have a kind mother, and as such, didn’t have an example to work from.  She wanted her kids to have everything she didn’t get from her alcoholic parents, and sometimes she overcompensated for having to fend for herself as a child.  I could not have asked for a more doting or affectionate mother.  There was never a doubt that my mom was my biggest supporter, constant confidant, and as I got older, my best friend.

Our house was where everyone wanted to be when I was growing up.  All of our friends loved my mom – she treated them all as if they were her own children.  My friends whose parents were less “parental” always found our house a kind of safe place to be, thanks to my mom.

She was super mom.  The kind of parent I can only hope to be to my kids.  As I got older, and started to need the advice and support that she had never had a chance to get from her mother, who died when she was just 18, she figured it out.  We worked out the boundaries she was reluctant to have, but eventually realized were necessary.  I was her baby, and she had thrown her entire life into raising my brother and I, so stepping back wasn’t an easy task. 

At 27 years old, married with a little girl of my own, she is still my mommy.  The greatest joy in her life is Baby T., and she has quite easily stepped into the role of Super Grandma, or “Gaga” as Baby T. calls her.

Everything I know about being a good mom, I learned from her.  I find myself doing with Baby T. the things she did with me that I always wondered why she did.  I’m a mother, and suddenly it all makes sense.

So many people never get the opportunity to know their mothers, or have a relationship that is less than perfect.  I’m so lucky to have had 27 years to know her – and I’m hoping for 27 more.  Our roles have reversed some, as now I am often the one caring for her, but she is still my mom. 

Moms look different to everyone.  Some of us have stepmoms, still others have grandmas, and some of us have Dads or adopted parents.

This Mother’s Day I’m lucky enough to be able to say that I have known the unconditional love of a Mother.  I have also lucky enough to be able to give that unconditional love to my own daughter and stepson, and even though they aren’t here with us, my twin boys. 

The moment I gave birth to my baby boys, I was a mom, and I knew how my mom had felt all of those years.  I understood what it was like to love someone more than life itself, and want nothing more than to watch them grow up and be good, kind people.

Today is bittersweet, as I celebrate with my daughter and stepson, miss my baby boys, and go to visit my sick mommy.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!