She moved me from my childhood bedroom, to my dorm room, to apartments, to town homes, and to my own family's home. She was there when I chose my dress for my First Communion, 8th grade farewell, prom, and wedding. She chose Lillian's baptism gown. She listens to me. Sometimes she sides with me, sometimes with Sean, and sometimes with the triple threat. Damn kids, they're not ever supposed to be right...and neither is Sean for that matter. She welcomes my children for sleepovers. And spoils them rotten....lets them have pops, soda, and paci's....whenever they want. "It's special," she tells them. "You're at Nanny's." What's hers is mine. She shares whatever she has. Even if I don't want it. I pretend that I do. It's the thought that counts. Never mind that her closets and fridge are bare after I leave. She doesn't care. She loves me.
Whenever I face something that seems insurmountable, she gives me the strength to see beyond it. This too shall pass. I look back and I know she's right. She was right when I was fifteen too. But don't tell her that. With my mom on my side, I feel like I can conquer the world. Or at least a day full of three under five...and a husband...and a dog. She loves me.
My mother's love has no beginning and no end. It's unbeatable and unspeakable. There is nothing else like it in the world. It consumes me. I feel so blessed to have the mom that I do. I love you mom. More than all the tea in China.
|Okay...so maybe it was 2am and we had a |