It was a weird holiday this year. I fretted and became unnecessarily anxious about the prospect of spending the day with my family; two humans I love the most in this world—my parents. Maybe because I felt I needed to fill my brother’s place, now that he’s only home for the big holidays. Or perhaps because my mother specially requested that Bryan and I attend church with her—the church I grew up in, and the one that’s segued into a popularity contest for parents over the years.
You know what I’m talking about.
“Well, my daughter is working at X and married with X amount of children!”
“Wonderful! My son has X number of kids and is living in Y with a great career in [whocares]!”
Or maybe that’s all in my head. Either way I was really dreading that church trip, but what I got instead was a lot of smiles and hugs and friendly greetings from people I hadn’t seen in ages who likely didn’t give a piss whether or not I had a colony of kids or a jet-setting career.
In the weeks leading up to my visit, my mom mentioned that she had a little something for me that she was excited to give to me. “Can you guess?” she would say on the phone in German and then she would quickly ask me not to guess because she wanted it to be a surprise.
And so on Mother’s Day, a day reserved for me to shower her with love and affection she gifted me with this gorgeous Michael Kors bag (clearly the woman knows the way to my heart). I mean, look at this thing.
I was incredibly moved.
Because it’s so like my mom to put me first, STILL, after all this time. It’s hard to believe she’s in her 70s. Still running around, going to hip-hop classes, and working full-time as a nurse on the overnight shift in a nursing home.
That alone says everything.
When we got home later that evening, we heard from Bryan’s mother who went to Atlantic City for the holiday. She ended up winning some money at the slot machines, which she immediately wanted to share with her son.
We are so lucky to have mommies who care so much.
It makes my heart burst, honestly.
I know I’m late with this love letter. But there are many mothers whose efforts go relatively unnoticed 364 days of the year. It’s as much my duty as it is yours to remember and give thanks to the women who provide and put everyone else’s needs first; the ones who ask for so little in return. The joy on my mom’s face when I opened my gift made me realize that in her heart, I’m still the young girl with bad hair under the Christmas tree in the 80s.
I hope to understand fully that kind of love myself one day. <3