May 14, 2006

I do remember

The other night I was at my parent’s house; and we got on the subject of when I was growing up. I told my dad how I remembered this one night when he and I were watching TV together. He said, "You want some popcorn?" I was shocked that he asked me and was offering to get us both a snack. I said, "Sure! Sounds good." At this point in my relaying the story, my Mom interrupted and said, "See, you remember all these good things about your dad; but you and your sister probably don’t remember anything good about me." I told her that she didn’t let me finish the story. My dad responded to my affirmative answer with a, "Then get off your butt and go make some for us." (My dad is sometimes annoying like that.)

I then started thinking of all the good things about my Mom and was telling her a few of my best memories of growing up. . .

Every Valentine’s Day, whether my sister and I had a boyfriend or not (usually not), my Mom would prepare a candlelight dinner for the whole family. She’d also make a cake with pink icing and give us each a present. Even if I had to endure an entire school day filled with girls squealing with excitement at the flowers or chocolates their boyfriend gave them, I knew I had a special dinner and gift coming when I got home from school.
I remember when my high school boyfriend and I had a major fight. She spent what must have been hours just listening to me cry and giving me hugs while my dad stood in the doorway, shaking his head and probably imagining a baseball bat meets boyfriend scenario. My Mom knew the perfect things to say to me; my dad was always better at the violent imagery.
In the summers, she would get up early and spend the morning cleaning and doing laundry and getting done whatever she needed to get done so that she could take us to the pool for the afternoon, even when she didn’t feel like going.
She took me to buy a new outfit for each and every school dance from 7th grade on, so that I would feel special, even if all the boys were dancing with other girls.
One time, my dad insisted I eat ALL my food from dinner and said that I wasn’t allowed to leave the table until I was done. I ended up falling asleep at the table. My Mom woke me up and I went up to bed. She came up to my room a few minutes later with cookies and milk.

And I also thought of a couple of great memories of her from more recent months and years. . .

When I gave birth to Big I, my Mom was there holding one leg and breathing along with me. She had a natural labor and I wanted the same; so her just being there served as such an inspiration.
When Lil C was going through this projectile vomiting stage, my Mom jumped in the car and arrived at my house after one of the incidents so that she could help me clean up and calm down since my husband was traveling.

Though every Mother and daughter inevitably have at least one ~~I-hate-your-boyfriend-so-get-rid-of-that-lousy-good-for-nothing. . .~~ rough patch during the teenage years, I can now say that I consider my mom one of my very best friends. She always sends me these Mother’s Day cards about how proud she is of me, and what a joy it’s been to watch me become such a great Mom. I think it’s been pretty amazing watching her become an incredible grandmother. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom (if you can figure out how to get on the internet and find your way to my blog).