She Got Me!

My Mom and I like to find Mother's Day and Birthday cards that make each other weep. We know we've done well when the other is blubbering. Well, I'm blubbering. Which makes typing a wee bit of a challenge.

O.K., I have wiped my eyes and blown my nose. I'm ready to exact my revenge!

Here is the verbiage that was on my Mom's card to me:

I may not be the first Mom to look at her Daughter and tell herself that the woman in front of her couldn't possibly be the same little girl who gathered flowers by the handful and did cartwheels across the backyard.

I may not be the first Mom to wonder at the mystery of days turning into years...but in my heart I'm sure that I'm the only one who's ever loved a daughter the way I've love you. Happy Mother's Day (crying again, hold on while I wipe my nose.)

She signed it, in case the above didn't do the trick: To one of the World's Best Moms

Let me tell you about my Mom. She was essentially an only child. She was pampered, adored, beautiful, tall, smart and insecure. She had me when she was in her early 20's, an age at which most women had there first child in the 1960's. She was ill prepared to have a child. She still tells me that after I was a few months old she threw away her copy of Dr. Spock. I didn't do any of the things that he predicted a young child should. Instead of crawling, I pushed myself around with one hand as I sat on my bottom. As an older child I would hide in a corner when we had company. I spent most of my teenage years in my room. I only came out at mealtimes and then would get into horrendous fights with my father. It was not an ideal childhood, but I have not met many people who claim that they have had "ideal" childhoods. But I grew, learned and thrived under her care. Did she have a clue about how to mother a difficult child...no. Anymore then I have a clue how to mother my difficult child. Did I always, always know, deep in my bones that I was loved...YES!

Now my mom is one of my dearest friends. She is a sounding board when things get rough, as they often do. She laughs at my stories, even when they may secretly horrify her. She is my pep squad, my anchor, my muse, my gentle critic, my editor, my knitting instructor, my bridge opponent, my confidant, my cooking teacher, my life teacher....my Mother. And I am very thankful that I was given to her and she was given to me. God is wise and good.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day