My mom is the most interesting, fun, creative, and courageous woman I know. All my life I've watched her with admiration and fascination. She loves books, wildflowers, antiques, road trips, cats, hummus, white shirts, and has a rich appreciation for beauty: beautiful jewelry, fine perfume, great art, ethnic foods, unique small towns, and God's lavish creative work .. she told me once that one of the things she's most grateful for is that God, " ..made the world for us to live in, but He didn't *have* to make it beautiful."
When I was a little girl, she let me play in the dirt. And I grew up to love visual art - the messier, the better. And I make things that are beautiful. When I was a little girl, she read me books. Thousands of them, all the time. Our home was filled with stacks of books, each a whole world to explore. So I grew up loving great books, and learning, and writing, and imagination.
When I was a baby, she would hold me close, and like every mom, she had special things she would do to soothe me. One of them was how she would hold my little foot in her hand. And when I was in labor for the first time, during the most painful part of the struggle to bring my own baby into the world, she lovingly placed her hand on my foot the exact same way, and her cool, familiar hand brought me unspeakable peace.
When I was a teenager, she valued my opinions. She apologized when she was wrong. She forgave me when I was wrong. She still hugged me goodnight, every night. She was fun - we did things like wallpapering our kitchen with soup labels and Modge-Podge...singing in the car together, loud...she came to every concert, every play, most games(the only ones she missed were when she was working two jobs), horse shows, all the times when a young woman asks in her mind, "Do you see me? Am I lovely?", my mom was there with a resounding "Yes!".
When I grew up, she let me. She trusted my choices, supported my direction, didn't smother or grasp(and now that I'm a mother I know what that must have taken from her) to hold onto her one child. And today, hers is my most treasured friendship.
Tomorrow, I'll tell you my favorite recent story - mom in all her glory. :)
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2 comments:
...if only she had gotten you to school on time...
In her defense, it would have taken a much larger woman, probably one with facial hair, to succeed in getting me out of bed on time back then. :)
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