When you ask my mom what she’d like for or to do on Mother’s Day (or Christmas or her birthday, for that matter), she – like so many mothers who have come before and after her – will likely tell you “nothing.”
I know she’s being humble, but if we’re being honest, what could I ever give the woman who gave me everything? Nothing would ever measure up, she deserves way more than I could ever give her.
She’s always been more than my mom, she’s also my friend. As much as I love her, I also genuinely enjoy her company. And she gives solid advice too, she almost always seems to know what to do when I don’t.
Not only did she drive me, Julie and my BFF Shanna to all the ‘N SYNC concerts back in the day (can we call the late 90s/early 00s the day yet?), she went to the shows (her favorite was JC). She was right there in the trenches with all the screaming, crying girls with us. And we all had a blast every single time.
When I woke up in the middle of the night to find that baby Kona somehow got herself inside the bed springs and called my mom panicked while I was trying to flip over my mattress, she got out of bed and got in her car to come help me rescue little Kona.
She flew out to Seattle with me to help me get my bearings. And when I got to NYC, she was my first visitor and helped unpack my things and set up my apartment while I was at work.
I think she was the first person in my family to realize what I was actually capable of (I mean that in a good way), and never made me feel ridiculous for having hopes and dreams that may have gone beyond our area code.
Even still, I was always too anxious and scared about everything to do anything. But my mom lived the cool, calm and collected life for as long as I can remember. Things that would send me into a panic barely phased her. She’s my hero. She always told me not to worry so much, but I couldn’t just drop the habit cold turkey.
I think maybe I finally figured out part of her secret. Once you have faith in yourself (and maybe something bigger than yourself) that you can make it through whatever happens, it’s a lot easier to remain even-keeled. And my mom has made it through way more than I could ever handle. She’s the strongest person I know.
I don’t know that I’ll ever get the chance to pass on any of her wisdom to (human) children of my own, but I know that Julie and I (and Kona) are all far better people (don’t tell Kona she’s not people) for being her daughters. There’s no material gift in the world that could show just how grateful we are to have her.