My mom and I have always had a great relationship. In the summer when I was little, I would come in from playing outside and she'd grab me and hug my sweaty body and swing me back and forth while squeezing me till I squealed. In the fall, I'd come in from school and the house would be decked out for Halloween and then again for Thanksgiving. Our pumpkins were always elaborate and cooking for Thanksgiving was always an all day event that gave us the opportunity to spend time together. In the winter, I'd come in from playing outside and she'd have homemade hot chocolate ready for me and my brother. She'd come in our rooms after we were asleep and throw an extra blanket on us when she saw that we weren't warm enough. In the spring, she would buy fruit and plant flowers. When ants came in, she'd kill them for me. When summer rolled around again and I trekked through the house dripping wet from swimming, because I forgot a towl…she'd push me out the door and throw a towel at me. (Peeved, but hey, she'd still bring me a towel.)
In the times in my life when I was antisocial and had friends but rarely wanted to see them, she was my best friend. We'd order Pizza Chef salads and watch our favorite movies. I can now quote or recite from front to back: Notting Hill, When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, French Kiss, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Sabrina, One Fine Day, and many many more. We'd have "Spa Nights" where we would do facials and manicures and pedicures while we gorged on sweets. Sometimes, if I did something good, or just because she knew I loved them...she'd make chocolate oatmeal cookies and surprise me with them.
Not much has changed from back then. She's still my best friend. I know that if I lived at home and if I still ran and galloped outside, she would hug my slippery body when I came in. She would still deck out the house for holidays like she did back then. Now, don't get me wrong. Our house is DECKED OUT for holidays. But back then… it was doubled. Our pumpkins would still be elaborate if I was home to share the experience with her. But since Jon Christian doesn't care about Halloween very much...the pumpkins are pretty much just classic pumpkins. When I come home in the winter, hot chocolate is extremely common. Apple cider, chai tea, any comforting, hot beverage is easy to find. She still kills ants for me and when I can peel myself away from my friends...we watch movies. In daily conversation, we quote the movies that I grew up watching. We say that we will "Be still like vegetables and lay like broccoli."-Pretty Woman. We say, "My ass is twitching. You people make my ass twitch." in a french accent from French Kiss. "Not bad. Not bad at all. Well chosen briefs I must say. Chicks dig grey. Nice. Firm. Buttocks."- from Notting Hill. She's my best friend. She gets my jokes. She laughs at my stories. She corrects me when I'm wrong. She holds me when I'm sad. She's a "goddess".
I'm saying all of this because sometimes I forget it. I forget to hug her and love on her and I forget that she's the woman who stood in my room and was patient with me every time that I was feeling completely unoriginal and not cute while being surrounded by clothes and feeling like nothing fits right. I want to be able to look back on this when I start to forget and then remember what an amazing woman I have the privilege of calling my mother.
When I have days like the day I had today, I remember. Today, nothing went right. I packed my lunch for work and instead of grabbing a fruit cup, grabbed a whole jar of peanut butter and put it in my sack. Had I not noticed the weight difference, I would have gone to work with a whole jar of peanut butter for lunch. -Waking up at 5:30 will do that to you. After I got to work, I started painting and I wasn't happy with the way it was turning out. Sweaty at 8:00 in the morning-I knew it'd be a long day. Hours passed and I learned that the handrails I had been painting for the past 2 weeks now need to be painted on the underside. Which means that I have to lean through them while 13+ feet off the ground and paint with paint that only has a 30-45 minute working time in the dead of summer. I'm not one to complain about something that is my job. So, I do it without complaining and end up soaking my ponytail in the industrial paint, hitting my head on the rail and getting it on the top of my head, and almost dropping my phone and ipod. After that and several other incidents, I leave for lunch and call my mom for a short venting session. During the thirty minute conversation, she fixes everything.
She tells me how proud she is of me. How she couldn't care less if I were to spend every single penny that I make this summer because I deserve it. She told me how she was so proud of me for doing what I do, how she couldn't have gone back for her masters degree if it weren't for me watching Jon, how she couldn't explain how proud she is of me. How my dad is proud of me and each of them know that they have a blessing on their hands. How people she talks to all tell her how sweet I am and how proud they are of me. While sitting there, blushing on the phone and smiling and wishing I could give her a huge hug...my day turned itself around completely. Not because of all of the nice things she said, or because people like me, or my dad is proud of me. No. Because this woman who God gave me to, has done nothing but love me every single day of my life. I've been rude to her a few times, usually I realize I'm doing it and I start laughing and admit that I was a little bitch and life moves on. When I used to be scared of storms, she visited me at school one day because she knew I was worried. When my heart was broken, she left work to come hold me. When I was lonely at college, she sent me packages and cards. When my heart put itself back together and I got excited about something and turned back into my old self, her face lit up. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on her face.
All she wants for each of her kids is for us to be happy and healthy. She wants us to live our lives and have our own experiences. She wants us to be honest and good to others and true to ourselves. This woman is an angel. A beautiful, tall, laugh-line covered, ballroom dancing, confident, badass angel.
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