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Friday 11 May 2012

Moms

My best, best, best friend in the universe lost her momma-in-law today. I got
her text, “call me when you can,” and knew. I knew bad news was coming. Her
mother-in-law was sick and my best friend’s texts are never that to the point. All
those close to the family knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make it easier.

Her voice was sad and tears were flowing. We talked briefly, I tried to make her
laugh a little, and we hung up.

The rest of the day, I naturally thought about mothers and motherhood — and
how on earth is it possible that some people have to cope without their moms?

I don’t want to sound overly sappy, but I love my mom — a lot. I can’t really think
of too many bad things to say about her. Sure we argue, sure she drives me
capital B Bananas sometimes, but my life would NEVER have been what it is
today without her. Besides the obvious (food, homework help, and Hallowe’en
costumes), there are many things I would not have without my mom. I don’t think
I would have a sense of humour; I learned that from her. I don’t think I would
have patience. What little patience I muster in a day is only a fraction of the
calmness she brought to my childhood.

I am an only child, which may change things, but I doubt it — my mom has love
in her heart for ten kids. I never ever felt ignored or stupid or ashamed in my own
home. Sure, I failed at things; sure, I broke things (just ask my mom about the
time the “dog” cut up a perfectly good blanket while I was innocently watching
TV); sure, I was bratty. Okay, I was seriously bratty: when she said “no” to me, I
would sing the Kids Help Phone number to her. But no matter what I said or did,
that woman just loved me. I knew it then and I really know it now.

They say that you can only really know how much your parents love you once
you have your own kids, but honestly, with my mom — I always knew. I didn’t
need W to show me — merely to reinforce — that my mom did it all for me. She
worked shit jobs, she cooked hot meals, she drove me around, she made me
hot cocoa and popcorn, and she still makes me pancakes if she comes within a
hundred feet of me.

As a kid I remember telling my mom that before I was born I was floating on a
cloud watching possible other (presumably less wonderful) moms float by, and
when I saw her I said, “That’s it: her.” I can seriously only hope that I do a fraction
of the job with W that she did with me, and that one day, given the choice, he
would choose me back.

-Tightrope Mama

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