see, I'm sensitive too

I’ve noticed that my last few posts have been a bit crass and I feel like I should show a softer side of me, the side I think should dominate, one of my many sides. Being sick has caused me to be lazy and indulge in tv and blogs.—and I noticed an interesting thing—a lot of stuff is about Moms today. Observe: Mike’s mom passed away and he wrote her a lovely tribute. Greek Tragedy wrote about her mom in this post. Starting Over today was about a young woman named Bethany who lost her daughter in a car accident this past June.

So, it got me to thinking. I love my Mom. So much so that I always capitalize Mom when I make a reference to her—kind of like God.

My Mom has always been there for me, even when she moved to Illinois my senior year in high school, I felt like she was here for me. Which, I learned recently, she considers to be the biggest mistake in her life—even though I lived with my Gam (my grandmother) who cared deeply for me, and my little brother had heart surgery at a fantastic children’s hospital in Illinois that may in the long run have saved his life—she regrets leaving me. She’s back now, and has been for several years—I think they only lived out there for a year or so—and she lives less than 10 minutes away.

She’s always been one of my biggest fans and has always given me great advice without passing judgement. Even when I was stupid and obnoxious growing up. She would say, “I might not always like you, but I’ll always love you.” And she has. I may not have always liked the way she disciplined me—although she wasn’t strict she was a MOTHER—but now, I hope to raise my children the same way she raised me. Because, I think I turned out ok.

And her being a Mother and not a “friend” through the years when I needed her to be a Mother, has given me a greater respect for her than a girl at 15 who just thought her Mom was being unfair could have ever imagined. And it helped carve the foundation of what our relationship is today—which is fabulous. As an adult myself, we are now not only Mother and Daughter, but friends. We talk on the phone at least a couple of times a week and get together almost every Saturday morning for Weight Watchers and coffee. (side note: she just called for the second time today to see how I’m feeling—see what I mean?) I can talk to her openly and honestly about my feelings, woman-to-woman. It’s because she treats me with respect

I feel incredibly lucky and grateful to have her as a Mother. I hope our relationship never changes.