My Mom

Today I want to talk about my mom for mother's day. Yes, I have a bazillion things I could say about being a mommy myself. Like the fact that people were telling me "Happy Mother's Day"......me. And every time I heard those words I got warm fuzzies. Because I'm a mommy. A Mommy!!!!!!! A position I knew I wanted my entire life, and just the fact that that moment is now.....it's overwhelmingly good.

But today at church we had the opportunity to stand up and give a testimony about our moms. Of course I wanted to. But Uncle Cecil was the first to get up, and as soon as he started talking I got that choking feeling in my throat and felt the tears building up in my eyes. There is no way I'd get through five words without sobbing hysterically. So instead, I sat there and listened to all the nice things people had to say about moms (including my Daddy who said something about Nana, momma, and me and how proud he is of me as a mommy.......big tears.....huge). And yet, I have a huge library of things that should be said to my momma. So I'll try to sum it up in as little time as possible.

My mom is literally half of my being. I know so much of me and who I am was formed by her. For example: she was the one who nicknamed me her "uniquey" in high school. A nickname given because she believed I was unique. I didn't conform to the crowd. I was my own person. And she enjoyed the unique person (well, most of the time. I was a holy-terror in high school). But little did she know that the nickname she gave me was just what I needed. You see, back then, I felt lost in the crowd. Trying to find my place, as probably every high-schooler does. But my momma was letting me know that I didn't have to fit in to a certain "type." I was my own and it was perfectly fine and she loved the "unique" me. I'm pretty sure from then on, I no longer felt the need to fit in. In fact, I thrived on NOT fitting in. And I've been the same ever since.

She's the mom who would stop doing what she was doing because I needed her to wash an outfit for the next day. Either to have that perfect outfit to impress that boy in school or to have a clean uniform for my soccer game. She's the one who went to all my games. She's the one who quit her job because I didn't like daycare. She's the one who cooked liver and onions for me because I had become anemic. She's the one who hid behind the branch saying "get her Heather" when a girl was trying to start a fight with me (No lie). She's the one who stitched beads onto my prom dress, one by one, because I wanted more beads. She's the one who took me to whatever practice it was....soccer, cheerleading, dance, basketball, 4-H, piano, voice lessons, or whatever I was sportin' at the time.

She's the one who listened to all the stories where I thought I was in love. She's the one who sent me little messages of encouragement in college because she knew I was having a hard time. She's the one who stood beside me as my matron of honor in my wedding. She's the one who scraped daddy and me up off the floor after Sherri's death, dried our tears, and helped us to move on when really, we should have done it for her. She's the one who came up and stayed with me during my divorce. She's the one who refused to be in the delivery room when Colton was born. But at the last minute she couldn't help herself and came in and put cold cloths on my forehead while I was pushing (even though I ended up throwing one across the room). She was there every second, silently, when we heard we would lose Chase. She was there when God gave us our miracle......sobbing and cheering! She is the one who dropped everything and moved to St. Petersburg because she didn't want me to be alone when we took Chase out of the hospital. Even though I thought I could do it alone, there's no way I could have made it one day without her.

She's that small voice in the back of my mind guiding me in every decision I make. She's that part in me that strives to push just a little harder to be a better mom. She's the example of a wife for me, because she has loved the same man pretty much her entire life. She's my example of a God-fearing woman.

She's the epitome of strength. She's lost so many people she's loved including her mother, her brother, and her own daughter, and yet she still breathes. I can sometimes see her inner struggle and pain and I just want to hold her and carry that pain for her. All those times she's held me up, I wish to do the same for her, if just once.

I would catch a glimpse of my mom every now and then today and just watched her. I watched silently but wanted to yell out thank you's for EVERYTHING.....and there's a lot. A few times I fought back tears. That's my mom.......how lucky am I??? I have a SUPERMOM(as in superhero)!!!!!

Mom you're the best. I love you. Thank you will never be enough.