My mom's birthday always makes me reflect on my relationship with my mother and how it has changed over the years. When I was a really little girl, she was the one who made my entire life function the way that it should. It was just her and I for years when I was really, really young, and I think that mindset stuck for my entire life. We watched I Love Lucy while I watched a remote bounce on her belly from my baby brother kicking before he was born. She picked my clothes and loved me unconditionally. She made school happen, she made amazing food magically appear out of thin air. She made spoons from the kitchen into shovels for the yard, she understood why I loved Barbie, and posted all of my scribbled art and school work on the fridge proudly. She curled my bangs and let me paint her toenails, she made thousands of cookies, brownies, rice krispie treats and popcorn balls for my classes and took me shopping for school clothes.
As I got older, she was there to drive me to meet with my friends. She listened to me recite essays for school the night before they were due, and taught me how to shave my legs. She let me pierce my ears and showed me how to put on eyeshadow, mascara and lip gloss. Every time I cried because a boy was mean to me, she was there. Every time I fought with a friend, she was there. Every time my little brother drove me to the very brink of insanity, she was there.
As I grew even older, she attempted to teach me to drive a manual (along with the support of my grandma), and she took me to take my drivers test. She waited up for me when I missed curfew, and there to dry my tears when I got my first speeding ticket. She met boyfriend after boyfriend, and cried when I graduated high school. She cried even harder as I pulled out of our driveway for the last time, and drove myself all the way to Boise for college. She came to visit me in all of my tiny little apartments that I've held over the years, and she indulged every relationship I pursued. And when I experienced a broken heart to top them all, I ran home. Curled up on my mom's bed, with my head on her shoulder, I cried as freely and openly as I needed to. There was no judgement. And after, she poured me a glass of wine and we watched Friends, episode after episode until I felt like myself again.
And now, just as she always has been, she is by my side every day, even from hundreds of miles away. Infinitely supportive and loving, she listens as I vent about work, about friends, about fights and housework. She supports me, and keeps me grounded. She loves me and reminds me of how lucky I am to have the wonderful life that I do. Funnily enough, I am certain that I would not have the amazing life that I do without her guidance, love and support. She is my mother, my friend, my mentor and my therapist. I appreciate her for all she has ever been and all she is to me every day. Some day, my children will love her just as much as I do, and she will once again experience the first Christmases, frosting cookies, bruised knees and graduations from kindergarten and college. She will be just as amazing at being a grandmother as she has always been at being a mother. And I know that I will be a great mother because I have the best role model I could have ever hoped for.
Happy Birthday, mom!! I love and appreciate you more than ever!
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