I’ve spent a lot of time talking about my Mama here on the blog. I’ve talked about our drive from Virginia to Texas when I moved. I talked about our trip to San Antonio in March for my Spring Break. I’ve made her meatloaf, her mac n cheese, and a host of other dishes that I grew up eating.
I usually call her “Mama” but when I’m trying to get something out of her or I’m in need of a hug, I call her “Mommy”. And sometimes I call her just plain “Mom” but not often. And I only call her “Mother” when I’m annoyed or trying to get her attention when she isn’t listening to me.
I don’t look much like her, but I share some of her strongest character traits, such as never being afraid to speak my mind, compassion for others, and crying too easily. She’s short. All the best advice I’ve ever received has come from her. She taught me about the wonders of washing my face with Noxema. She still lets me sit in her lap. She has an affinity for horrible reality television. She knows every word to Les Mis and taught them to me by age 10. She held my hand at my dad’s funeral. She’s loved me unconditionally since all screaming 7 lbs of me entered the world 22 years ago. She even put up with me during my horrible teenage years when I told her that she loved Hunter more and I rolled my eyes at her more than I did anything else.
Last year on Mother’s Day, I graduated college and made her cry. This year on Mother’s Day, she has one of her kids at home (my brother got home Friday after being deployed overseas for a year!), but I can’t be there with her. I don’t know if we’ve ever spent a Mother’s Day apart. She’s probably crying again this year. This year, she’s still putting Hunter and I first and being the incredible mother she always has been. If there’s one thing I know, it is that Mama knows best.
I love you, Mama. Happy Mother’s Day!