I know I said in my last post that there would be pictures in my next one, but I inadvertently lied. I am withholding pictures to protect my mom’s privacy.
Mom turns 75 tomorrow, 9/13.
She is my hero.
Mom is brave. Seriously. She is! She kicked breast cancer’s ass not once, but twice. She was there for me during my two breast cancer scares, always lifting me up and being encouraging.
When I was a kid, I had three recurring nightmares; the house burning down, being kidnapped, and my mom dying. All of them were terrifying to a little kid, but the latter was the worst one. I would wake up, run into my parents’ room and feel immediately better, seeing that she was in there and breathing.
When I was little, Mom was a stay at home mom. She was like June Cleaver. Dinner on the table when dad got home, fresh baked cookies after school, and always there to help my my kid sister and me with our homework. (That is, when I bothered to bring mine home…)
I got married stupidly young. And by stupidly, I mean she tried to warn me, but I did it right out of high school, anyway. God love her. She never EVER said, “I told you so.” My kids can’t say that about me. *shrug* They weren’t as lucky as I was. When that marriage hit the skids, she wasn’t overly sympathetic or coddling, but she was there and let me vent.
I remarried. Not sure she was totally on board with that one, but if she really wasn’t? She never let me know that. Again? My kids aren’t so lucky. That relationship was rocky, to say the least. After my folks split up in 92, my mom and kid sister left California and moved to Raleigh, NC. At that time, I was still married to my second ex, who was in the Air Force. Mom and Sis had a little condo, but were in the process of buying her home in 1996, when the ex and I got orders to Seymour Johnson AFB, here in Goldsboro. This was only about an hour’s drive to Raleigh. I was stoked! To have my boys’ grandma so close after having spent so many years almost half a continent away? Awww, hell, yeah!
In March of 96, we arrived in North Carolina, and my mom was gracious enough to let us stay with her and the ex commuted to the base until our housing opened up for us a few weeks later. We moved there, but stayed in close contact with Mom. No matter what happened, she was just a call or a short drive away.
Mom saw me through some domestic abuse, the subsequent divorce, yet another wedding, and my current husband’s situation with spinal stenosis and disability.
This woman has been solid as a rock.
My mom has laughed with me, held my hand while I cried, picked me up when I was at my lowest points, and cheered me when I needed it. Most recently she and I rejoiced in some long awaited seriously good news.
My mom has been there for me through thick and thin. I love her so much that I cannot find words to express this to her.
When I was a teenager we got along like most teen daughters and their moms…like oil and vinegar…they only mix well when the shit is shaken out of them. I am not proud of how I treated my mom during those years, and I always read about moms that hoped their kids had children that would give them threefold what they had given the moms. I don’t recall Mom ever having said that (out loud), but needless to say? I got that and then some. Times three.
Yet, after all the drama I have brought into Mom’s life, her love for me (and my sister, who is a hell of a lot less maintenance than I am) has never, EVER waivered. I am not the mom she was/is and for that I probably need to apologize to my boys.
I have friends that have lost their moms for various reasons, and I am sorry for them, even though I can’t relate. I am blessed, at damned near fifty years old, myself, that I still have mine, and thank my lucky stars every day for this fact.
I think that if one were to look up “unconditional love” somewhere, my own mom’s picture should be there. Daily, I strive to be like her. I’m not there, yet, but I keep trying.
All of that said?
I wish you a very happy 75th birthday, Mommy! I love you and wish many more happy, healthy, active years for you!