I titled my blog post today “Mommy Dear,” because as the story goes as a child I without any prompting referred to my Mom as just that. After time, “Mommy Dear” must have wore off because my memory has always been of calling her “Mom.”
Although, I think back to that name and smile because she is so very dear. And, just like most little kids go through the stage of calling their mother, “Mommy,” then graduating to “Mom” when it no longer becomes cool, my mom however, for the most part (except those weird pre-teen years) has always been cool to me.
My mom has always been my best friend and confidant. Through the awful middle school and high school years with the petty girl drama, when one week you had a best friend and then the next an enemy, my Mom was always there. When someone broke my heart, it was my Mom who always came to the rescue to boost my broken confidence. For the not so proud moments, Mom showcased her disappointment but never missed the opportunity to show her love. And, for every proud moment I had, my Mom was my biggest fan.
Being the oldest of five, she not only gets to be called the title of “Mom” from four other kids, but she also gets the stress and worry that comes with being a Mom of five kids. And, as much as I praise her now, she doesn’t always get all the credit, but bares a lot of the brunt from grumpy kids. They say you hurt the ones you love the most and my Mom has had to endure many of our bad days.
But she is resilient and the most selfless person I know. Always giving up her time and energy towards her kids and to her loved ones. One of my favorite stories that showcases my Mom’s act of kindness was right after I accepted a promotion at the company I currently work for. I was heading in for my first day in the new role and had a big meeting. As I was walking into work I noticed blue streaks all over my light tan slacks. It wasn’t until I got in the door and a co-worker gasped that I realized my husband who is notorious for having pens in his pockets must have washed my slacks with his jeans and a busted pen. Blue ink all across my pants stood between me and my 10 am meeting. I called my Mom, because of course that is the first thing you do with a Mom like mine and she said, “what do you need me to do?” I knew I was pushing it when I responded, “go to my house and grab a new pair of slacks and drive them to me?” I work an hour away, but guess what without a sigh or complaint, to the rescue she came!
So, today, I celebrate you on your Birthday and say – thank you and mean it, for years and years of love. You truly are a dear Mommy to me and my siblings. We are blessed and lucky! Love you.