Mama

 SOTD: A Song For Mama

"You will always be the girl in my life."

Oh dear. I'm starting to tear up and I've barely even started writing. 

I know everyone says they have the absolute best mom, especially on Mother's Day, but y'all -- I really, really do. 

When I was a kid, I remember thinking my mom was the strongest person alive. Like physically, there was nothing she couldn't do. And she was barely 5'5", 110 lbs soaking wet. I watched her work alongside men twice her size in a window factory. I watched her play softball and run faster than anyone else on the field. I watched her sacrifice so many of her dreams so my brother and I could have more of our own. 

I watched her love and lose. And I watched as she pulled herself together and do it again. And again. And again, one more time... And she's still dating! 

I remember watching her sing along to the radio while driving her little grey Escort. Windows rolled down, wind in her hair, completely carefree.  I remember her love of Whitney Houston and Reba McEntire. She loved them, so of course, so did I! 

I remember watching her cook dinner every night, after working all day, and our house was always clean. Her lasagna is still the best I've ever had -- at least in America. Her tea is the sweetest you'll ever drink. And her nightstand is always packed with candy bars and little Debbie snacks. 

I remember that she never told me I could or could not do anything. Sure, we had some basic rules, but more than anything, she's always just wanted to encourage whatever made me happiest. When it came to college, she was the first person to tell me I could do anything I wanted -- and do it anywhere I wanted to do it. When it comes to careers -- and we all know I've had a few -- she celebrates the accomplishments when they come, but if I get the urge to run, she's the first one to tell me I can change if I want to. And then she gives me the support I need to make those changes -- whether it's moving me across the state, back into her house, or shipping me to another country. At the end of the day, I know that if I am going after something I believe in, even if no one else believes I can do it -- she does. 

I don't remember ever watching her cry. I'm sure she did, I just don't remember ever seeing it. At least not until I was an adult. I've scared her a few times. Not intentionally, but things have definitely happened that have caused her extreme worry and grief. She loves twice as hard as I do, which is kinda saying a lot -- she'd give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. 

To know her is to love her. 

In the last year, I have probably caused her more grief and stress than the first 40 combined. But she has also been my absolute rock. When there was no one else I could turn to, she was ALWAYS there. Arms open. Never judging. Never unwavering. And if I'm being completely honest, she's probably saved my life more than once. 

'I love you' seems insufficient. There surely is a sentiment that is greater than love. I have not found it, but I'm sure it must exist, if only for this one expression of gratitude and adoration. 

Happy Mother's Day Mama. You will always be the queen of my heart. And my very best friend. Until I find a better way to say it... I love you. 

(Yes, I am a blubbering, crying mess, if anyone is curious.)