Sunday, May 12, 2013

My Momma's Day

I love my mom.

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who's that little boy with my mom? oh wait.. that's me.

I was her first little baby when she was barely old enough to have a little baby. I don't think she had a clue what to do with me. Trial and error. That's kind of been how we've gotten through the last 23 years. Trial and error. Learning together how to handle things. I think that's the special thing about first borns. Every new year and every milestone is new for both parties.

I love my mom.

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Early last week I was reminded of how lucky I am. Lucky that my mom loves me. Lucky that my mom kept me. Lucky that my mom is still here. I was blog-surfing (channel surfing for blogs) and I came across one of the most heart wrenching couple of posts I've read in a while. Katie lost her mom when she was 16 to breast cancer. I can't even imagine. At 16 I was in the middle of typical teenage behavior. One moment pushing my mom away, craving my independence, and in the next moment crying hysterically to her, needing her.

I love my mom.

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It's true what they say about getting older. You learn to appreciate your parents more than ever. The things my mom did for me growing up, the things she sacrificed for me, the hard decisions she made to give me the best life possible, and all of the other things I took for granted, I appreciate now. My mom isn't perfect. That's the nice thing about my mom, she's never pretended to be. Never pretended to be anyone other than herself.

I love my mom.

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Sometimes something will happen in my day that I know only my mom will find the humor in. I have memories that I only share with her. Sometimes I'll start talking and hear my mom's words coming out of my mouth. I've been known to give a look that is identical to the looks she can give.

I love my mom.

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I didn't have a typical upbringing. My family is weird. My family situation is weird. But I've never, not even for one second doubted that I was loved. Mom always made sure I knew. We'd get in huge fights. Screaming, yelling, crying, door slamming fights. After every big fight, every single one, my mom would cool off, then come in my room, sit on my bed, and apologize for this, that, or the other and then tell me she loved me. Every time.

I love my mom.

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So when or if I ever get my chance to be a mom, I think I've got a pretty good idea of the kind of mom I want to be.

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Happy Mother's Day, Mommy. I love you and I can't smile without you.
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1 comment:

  1. Great post! That last picture really shows how much the two of you look alike!


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