For My Mommy...

This Mother's Day, I haven't sent my Mom a card or flowers or a gift. I have been thinking about it for weeks now, and have come up empty-handed. Truthfully, every time I thought of buying a card, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I've always bought a card, always. But this time I feel so much more in my heart than a cheesy card would do justice to. I don't know what, if anything, has changed this year. I don't know why a card won't be enough. But it isn't. So, the only thing I can really think of is to tell my Mom, on this blog, just exactly how I feel about her.
I am 32 years old, I often call her Mommy, and I don't care what you think of that. She is my everything. She is my favorite. She is my strength. So, without further ado, here's a letter to my Mom...


Hi Mommy!!!

Today is Mother's Day. Silly, though, 'cause I feel the same about you today as every other day. I really love you beyond words, but because we are both "words" people, I'm still going to try and put it in writing.

Every time I think of you, which is pretty darn often, I think about how much we laugh when we're together, and it makes me smile. Every time. We have so many inside jokes that I've lost count. And when something creeps into my head from a long ago joke we shared, sometimes I literally laugh so hard I cry...or pee my pants a little. No matter what has ever happened between us, we've ALWAYS been able to make each other smile.

Every time I miss you, which is pretty darn often, I think about how you still rock me in your chair if I'm having a bad day. How you smooth back my hair, and dry my eyes, and wrap your arms around me. How you've done that since I was born, and even though I'm 32 now, and kind of a big girl, you are still there for me in that most primitive way.

Every time I think of you, which is every day, I hope you know how much I love you. I'm a good person because of you. You have made me compassionate, and smart, and happy. You have made me tolerant, and kind, and helpful. You have made me humble, and strong, and passionate about life. You have fueled my dreams, and encouraged my creativity. You have taught me, celebrated me, loved me.

Every time I miss you, which is every day, I remember things we keep just for us, and my heart is filled. No one else knows the significance of "Mama...boo-da-boo-boo-da, Mama". No one knows who Jeff Erson is. No one knows how it feels when you "find your HOOOOME". No one knows what most of our stupid stories are, and I like it that way. We are silly, together. So, when I miss you, I close my eyes (except when I'm driving) and imagine some of these exact moments. I feel you here. And it helps to stay the lonliness.

Every time someone talks about losing their Mother, I have an anxiety attack. The mere thought of living life without you here sends me spinning into the abyss. So, instead I think of all the experiences we still have left together. I think of trips we'll take, things we'll see together, squabbling over crossword puzzles, and who took the last cup of coffee. I think of how I give you a nervous breakdown with my crazy driving, and how you laugh at me when I act like an idiot. I think of how, every time I've wanted to be something, you've told me I can. And every time an oppotunity came up, you sacrificed something of yourself to give me a chance.

I think about your life and all you've wanted to be. And I think I have the most amazing Mother on the planet, because you gave all of it to me instead. I hope that one day soon, you'll recognize that you are amazing, and take some of life for yourself. See the world, write a book, find your cabin in the woods and surround yourself with things to read. I hope someday soon, I can show you that your work is pretty much done with me, and it's time for you now. Not to say that I don't still (and always will) need my Mommy. I just want to give you back at least a little of what you have given me. Because you deserve everything that makes you happy.

I'm a pretty darn amazing person, if I do say so myself. But it's not me who can take most of the credit for that. You have poured so much love into me - all my life - and have created everything I am proud of about myself. I am your Opus, Mr. Holland. I just hope I can show you someday what an impact that will have on the world. What an impact YOUR love will have. What all your sacrifices were for.

So, for all the times we've laughed, or cried, yelled at each other, or hugged. For all the worries, and jokes, and time, and distance. For all the kisses on my boo-boos, and spanks on my butt. For all the pride in your face, and the care in your heart. For all your expectations and dreams of what I might become. For all the faith you've had when you shouldn't have. For all the times you put me first. For all the times you put me in my place. For the intelligence you stressed and the care you demanded of me. For all the Sunday crosswords and dinners you cooked. For every last piece of you that you've given to me. For being that one person I can ALWAYS count on for a real answer. For being my Mom, and all that has meant to you, and all it has meant to me...

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I love you much more than these words, and much, much more than my luggage. ;)