My mom was not always my idol.
As a teenager, my mother was my enemy. I lied, I bickered, and I sneered at my mother's well-to-do attempts to teach me right from wrong.
I always knew everything. I was always right. I don't think I was a particularly difficult child, but that didn't mean I didn't make mistakes. And I'm sure many of my mistakes kept her up at night, wondering if she had screwed up somewhere along the line. Looking back now, I can confidently say that she didn't. In fact, I am so thankful that she put up with my behaviour and teenage angst.
It wasn't until I was finished school, working, but still living at home, that I began to see and fully appreciate how much my my mother had given up to raise me and my sister. I saw the late nights where she would stay up, waiting for me to get home from a night out partying, just to make sure that I got safely. I saw the early mornings where she would wake up to pack us lunch because we liked to sleep in and then rush out the door without eating. She'd always manage to wrap up toast so that I wouldn't have to skip breakfast, knowing that I wouldn't eat otherwise. I saw a woman who would commute
4 hours a day to work one of her four jobs that enabled her to pay the bills and keep food on the table. My parents would often fill up my gas tank for my car, knowing that my money could be better spent on tuition and textbooks.
I could probably pinpoint the turning point in our relationship sometime during my first year of university. I lived in residence and went home every weekend. One Sunday afternoon, shortly after dropping me off and driving the half hour back home, I called her, nearly in tears, because I was lonely and missed her (my campus wasn't very big, and most people were still out visiting their own families on the weekend). Without skipping a beat or asking any questions, she got right back into her car and came back to pick me up. I spent Sunday night at home and she drove me back Monday morning for class.
My mother had gone from being the person I spent years running away from, to the person to whom I turned to, regardless of the circumstances. I have so much respect for her now, and I'm a little disappointed I wasn't able to realize it when I was younger. Even now, my 13 year-old sister rolls her eyes at me when I tell her that mom really does knows best. I can only hope she realizes how lucky we are before it's too late.
Tell you mother you love her -- every day, not just today. I realize that I am very fortunate that she is still such a big part of my life. I know in the years to come, I still have much to learn.
“My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her.”
-George Washington
I love you, Mommy.
Mom & I, 1990
One of my fav pictures.
