MOTHER AND FRIEND

Yesterday was Mother’s Day so Husband and I spent the weekend with our Mothers (and in my case Grandmothers and Aunts and Cousins). But, even though the holiday is officially over, I wanted to take a public moment to talk about my Mom.

If there is a more self-less person in the world, I do not know of her. And, its not just the big things like driving 6 hours to DC to help me move and sitting in the storage area of the UHaul, because there was no room in the front, but the little things like how when she used to make my lunch for school, there was a note almost every day packed in with the lunch, with a simple message such as, “I love you.” (Although on one day when Mom acted as a substitute teacher at my school, the note actually said, “I’m watching you,” which I think was a very different sentiment.) Even now, at 32, I still think that sitting wrapped in my mother’s arms in one of the safest places in the world. Mom is my constant cheerleader, personal wedding planner and role model.

I attended a private high school and the application process was not unlike that of applying to college, complete with a personal essay. At that time, I wrote the essay about Father, who was (and still is) an incredibly successful lawyer and wonderful father. I wrote about him making time to attend gymnastics competitions and how I hoped to one day be a lawyer just like him. At that time, it never occurred to me to write about my mom. After all, what did she do except stay at home in order to always be available to shuttle me to those gymnastics practices and to make the inevitable trip back and forth (sometimes more than once) when I forgot an essential item like my sneakers or leotard? And, all those kitchen table talks when I cried about how I could not master the balance beam and she reassured me that I was a wonderful gymnast (Mom was a fantastic liar back then!) and that my balance beam troubles were not due to lack of skill but because I had inherited my grandmother’s long feet? They were just part of being a mom and she was simply doing her job.

Then, as I got older, Mom was always the volunteer to drive me and my friends around town. She would listen quietly in the driver’s seat while my pre-teen friends and I chatted, forgetting there was an adult in the car. She never judged our conversations, just occasionally inserted helpful comments such as explaining what a phallic symbol was. (Note to Mom: While I am sure you thought you were preserving my innocence by explaining it was anything longer than it was wide, that explanation caused me all sorts of embarrassment when in high school, I referred to the phallic shape of a Snicker’s Bar in front of someone else’s mom). And, when my friends and I were able to drive on our own, I never gave a second thought to the fact that everyone would rather spend time hanging at our house, but only when Mom was home. But isn’t that just Mom doing what she is supposed to do?

Now, however, I realize that all those things were part of *my* Mom, being a mom, but that most people did not have the same experiences. My mom was the permanent chauffer of my friends because the other moms would not do it. My mom explained, in her own way, terms like “phallic” and “hooker” (defined as a “woman who dresses funny”) because no one else had taken the time to tell us. And, she listed in the car so that she would always know what was going on in my life. So thanks, Mom, for being the very bestest Mom and for, 32 years after giving birth to me and 14 years after your legal obligation finished, for continuing to be my cheerleader, chauffer and friend.