Mi Madre….

We’re celebrating my mother’s 70 birthday this evening. Nan’s birthday was earlier this month, but between her schedule and ours and to take some of the edge off (pun intended. :)), we agreed to celebrate at a later date.

We all joke about turning into our parents, whether we like it or not.  It took a while for me to realize that I was very much like her.  And while Nan and I, the only daughter she has given birth to, have not always had a smooth road to make our journey ( certainly not do to any imperfections on my part.  :)), I am glad to be so.

  Nan is the most caring, kind, and smartest person, I know.  She understands that everyone needs a friend. Always there to lend a helping hand or kind word, give directions (often while in an entirely different state or country), feed the masses, hold a hand, or just be.  With a deep breathe, a rub of her forehead, and a few minutes to think, an upside down world would be righted again.

When I was lot younger, I used to think that my mother was not “maternal.”  But looking back, she couldn’t have been more so.  Through the scouting, the sporting events, the concerts, the science fairs, the auditions, the term papers, the surgeries and the stitches, she has been there.  She has been there cheering my siblings and me on, believing in us through it all, often reminding us of our own strength when we ourselves had forgotten. She has always been our number one fan, our champion.

My older brother, Uncle Fabulous, Big Daddy, Nan and I were at a party.  We had been there a while and at some point in the evening, Uncle Fabulous, Nan and I ended up in the living room, just the three of us. We were talking our usual stuff, food, books, plays, food.  Another guest wandered in and Uncle fabulous started the introductions.  He introduced himself, then me, then said, ” And this is my mother…”  The man looked confused and asked Uncle Fabulous if he had said his mother, to which my brother nodded, and said, “Yep, that’s my momma.”  The guest looked astonished that as grown adults that we would be at a party, enjoying ourselves with our mother.  Then my brother and I were ones that looked confused. The guest replied, “I could never be at a party with my mother, we don’t get along that way, we wouldn’t have anything to talk about.”  We talked a little more on the subject, then Nan said, I raised my children to be people I would want to be friends with.” My brother and I just looked at each other and smile. …that’s our momma.

I’m sure that I don’t tell Nan thank you enough, what child ever does.  But today, on the celebration of her 70th birthday, Thank you.

I am extraordinarily proud to have you as a mother…..and a friend.

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One Response to “Mi Madre….”

  1. Marianna Says:

    You were right. I cried.

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