You were the mid-season replacement and parenting was tough. I was a tough kid. But we’re all grown up now and so much we’ve done I cannot imagine having done without you.
You were my Mom when I was 20 and freaking out and joined the Navy. You were my Mom when I came home tired, bedraggled and dumped by an idiot. You picked me up when I felt humiliated and said hey, it can happen to anyone kiddo, you’re life’s not over and dinner’s waiting when you get home from work.
You were my Mom when L had her final breakdown and disappeared. You never stopped hugging me. You never let me go and this was the most gargantuan feat of grace and understanding any woman could possibly muster, to help her kid deal with the crazy of her spiritually dying mother. And you never let go, especially when I called you from work and said it was my birthday and I didn’t know where my mom was. Yes I did. She was on the other end of the line, saying honey, I love you and it’s gonna be OK.
You were my Mom when GingerMan came to pick me up for our first date. I was ready and waiting, on time, upstairs, and let him sweat it out down there talking to you for nearly ten minutes, because I wanted your appraisal of his character. You waited up past your bedtime to tell me he was charming and seemed just good enough for me (you later raised his rating to “Buy”).
You were my Mom when we picked out my wedding dress. And five years later when my sister chose hers. Your mother was our beloved Grandmother, the only real one we had. We were married in her back yard and you were our Mom when you walked us down the aisle and sat in the front row with your corsage and tissues.
You’re our Mom when you call three or four times a week just to say Hi or ask if we want lemons or limes or avocados off the backyard trees. When you ask if I just want to come for lunch and hang out. You make the best sandwiches, and I can’t replicate them at home. Mom Sandwiches, as Dad says.
For all the sandwiches, and avocados, and love and listening, thank you from the bottom of my screw-ball heart. I love you, Mom
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