I Love You, Mom

The more time I spend with Mom the more I get to know and love her as a woman and a mom.  I've never had any doubt to her momness.  Being a mom myself helps me to see a deeper facet of our relationship, too.  It's a powerful link.

Being away, in Istanbul has made me realize the warmth I'm missing.  I talk to her on Skype.  I know she reads my blog. We e-mail. It's certainly not even close to being close.  I miss being able to call and say, "I'm coming up, what do you want me to bring to help with dinner?"  Or close enough to say, "Want to come down for a few days?"  

I miss her.  I miss the tradition of being together on Mother's Day.

When I'm with her we talk, walk, read and watch old movies together.  We enjoy some Bailey's Irish Creme now and then.  We both like decaff. coffee after dinner or hot tea with milk. We look for sea-glass, rocks and driftwood together. 

I love to watch her set the table as we're getting dinner ready.  She has that loving touch no one else can set the table with.  I love how she doesn't care if we both eat different things with the meal.  Especially at lunch.  We put a bunch of things out with no set menu in mind.

I love how she can savor a good tomato or cucumber. How she likes to have a graham cracker after a meal for "something sweet".  She can go a week without having any meat and then she mentions hamburgers or chili.  She likes EVERYTHING on her hamburger (including onion).

I like how she has skim milk with dinner, like I do.  She likes coffee in the morning.  And she likes "good" coffee but won't buy it for herself.  She likes to order a mocha or a cafe latte when we're out shopping or hanging out at a coffee shop.  

I like to see her show pride in her little garden plot.  All those years with a huge garden. Now she enjoys just enough flowers and plants to nurture during the short growing season.  She has a lovely compost and really doesn't even need it.  The soil is so rich in her yard.

I love how she worries about me just enough to show her love.  Her hugs are perfect.  She holds on and I feel all her powerful unspoken words. 

I like how she's left-handed.  She says she tries to use both hands so she uses both side of the brain.  I don't worry about either side not getting enough work.  She's always reading, doing cross-word puzzles, and learning.  When she's reading she curls up her little feet on the couch.  When she's working her cross-word puzzles she has a different posture.  She started getting books on sketching a few years ago and practices sketching.  She's not afraid to learn new things.  About nine years ago she started to learn how to play the harmonica. I'm not sure when she started, but she also practices yoga and does it regularly now. 

I love how we laugh together about our vanity, bodily functions and our lack of sense of direction. It makes me feel good to admit with her we have pride.  But, she's the most humble person I know.  She has been writing poetry since she was a young mother (or maybe before).  She's on Facebook and uses a cell-phone.  She recycles and cares about what she uses and reuses. 

I love to watch her cat-nap.  She's smooth about it.  She said Dad use to get so jealous because she could nap anywhere. I can imagine with ten children you would learn to take it when you had the chance!

I love how she walks to the public library to get books. I like how she admits, "If a book's not good it's not worth finishing." I like how she prefers to use a wallet instead of a purse.  How she wears long underwear until the cold weather goes away.  How she warms up her "bed-buddy" in the microwave before saying goodnight.  (She loves to have her feet warm, it helps her fall asleep)

I love how she has no idea the love and respect she has from the townspeople in St.Ignace.  She's always so happy when they stop and talk to her or wave when they drive by.  She doesn't see the smiles she brings to them.

I love how she likes to talk and visit.  But I never feel like she pushes conversation.  When there's nothing to talk about, she is never uncomfortable about silence. I love how she doesn't dwell on the past or harbor regrets on the clothesline.  She appreciates a nice day. Whether it's 20 below or 85 degrees in the shade.

I love to go swimming with her.  She's a fish.  I like how she can stay outside and work in the yard all day.  She'll wash and vacuum her car until it's spotless.  But, I like how she'll hire someone else to do it for her sometimes, too. 

I love how she meets me on the porch or at the door when I come.  How she waves out the porthole or flashes the porch light at me when I say good-bye.

I love her candy cookies, carrot cake, and strawberry shortcake.  Her applesauce is sinful.  I love how she'll fuss over a meal when she wants to celebrate something special.  Her stuffed meatloaves are scrumptious and her bean salad is impossible to duplicate.  Her hot beans in a crock-pot are perfect every time. She's a great cook but has no trouble quickly agreeing to dine out.

I love how when she dresses up she looks like royalty.  She has excellent taste in what she wears and knows what she likes has to be comfortable. 

Mom has the spirit of a champion.  She's curious, inquisitive, knowledgeable, charitable, compassionate, humble, honest, loyal, forgiving, patient, tenacious, optimistic, practical, frugal, self-sacrificing, fun-loving, wise, short in stature, tall in spirituality, and not afraid to leave the judging of others where it belongs.

I hope if she ever decides to judge herself she reads my blog entry first.  I love you, Mom. You are the most amazing mother in the world.