The Day of the Mother's

where to start where to start....
I have ALWAYS and i mean always wanted to be a mom.
and when i say always i mean ALWAYS
i would like to think that i am a pretty good mom
but that is because i have the best mom..

I truly stand in awe of her...
have always had a respect for my mom, an unconditional love and an appreciation for her
however i do not think one can fully understand the depths of a mother's love until you are one.
all the "I love you more" "No, I love you more" s in the world don't measure a mom's love
(and by the way your mom really does love you more)

I remember a few years ago wondering how my mom:

took me to 100 bazillion hours of dance classes... and was okay with it when i didn't want to dance anymore,

understood when i wanted to sing rather than play the violin... her dream for me,

sat through endless choir concerts... when i was always the last group to sing and all the "crappy" ones went 1st,

was heart broken by my heartache... when she knew damn well that my 1st-10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16th toad boyfriend was not my prince charming or the one she had been praying for since before i was even born
she once drove to California all night long just to hold me when the latest dummy had broken my heart, she told me that she would take the pain for me and she rocked my teenage broken heart in her lap. she knew my heart would heal and that this was just some silly ol'boy and there would be another, someday to sweep me off my feet and the sun would surely rise the next day and my heart would go on... she somehow new my pain was real, never laughed it off, never said "i told you so" (even though she did tell me so...)

i never understood how she was not mad at me for totaling out my car (or the second one for that matter) 14 days after i had my drivers license...even after she had told me a hundred times that she could not teach me how to be a defensive driver.

she didn't even get mad when she was teaching me how to drive and i hit the house.. she just said call your dad and let him know he needs to show you how to fix stucco tomorrow

she was always there to listen to my endless ramblings about this and that interested in the smallest detail of my day... and really how excited can the life of an 11 year old be?

and even as i got older and my mistakes were bigger, when the hurt was more than just a scratched knee... when the heartaches were more earth shattering... the consequences life changing... she was still my #1 fan... she never waivered in her belief of me, even when i had no faith in myself.. she has been there clapping for me at my highest of highs (dancing on the Jerry Lewis telethon when i was 8, i peaked young) and holding me in my lowest of lows (need we mention those?)

i never understood all that until now...

i know jack will have his fair share of bruised knees and broken hearts.
i know he will be into one thing one minute and we will buy all the necessary "stuff" and then the next minute he will be into something else.

i know he will want to do things that i will think are too dangerous and he will do them anyways
i know he will find someone other than me to love and some pretty little girl will come along and steal and probably break his heart (i will run her over with Auntie Whitty's truck)
i know we will disagree, argue about cleaning up, go through the terrible 2's, 12's and maybe 22's

i pray that i will have an 1/2 the compassion, understanding, patience, warmth, honesty, drive, openness, heart, and faith as my mom.

the old saying goes "when you know better, you do better."
well then i should have NO excuse because i was raised by the best.

and i now know why she held me when i was hurt, because she was hurt.
if my heart was broken, her heart was broken.
if my day was good, her day was good.

she was able to rejoice, protect, defend, cheer, laugh, cry, be silly (my dad is not the only silly one) because she is my M-O-M my hurt is her hurt, my joy is her joy and my heart is her heart...

i get it now...
and i love you more