My Mom

My mom reads my blog every day…in fact, I frequently write posts wondering how she’ll react or what she’ll think. Not once has she commented, and I doubt she ever will. Her comments come at 5:30 PM as she’s driving home from work. That’s when she’s bored and she calls me to check in.

This weekend is Mother’s Day and today is the one month anniversary of my grandma’s death; my mom’s mom.

When I realized that my grandma was dying, I started thinking about the things that made her valuable to me. What would I miss? What was important for my children to know about this woman they would most likely not remember? It also made me realize just how valuable my own mom is. I began to recognize the things that I now take for granted; the things I would miss if it were her and not my grandma.

Did I mention she knits?

There’s the daily phone calls to check in,

the songs she sings on my voicemail for special occasions (or sometimes just to annoy me),

the constant, non-stop, incessant knitting (did I mention it’s never-ending),

and just how willing she always is to listen, help or support me in whatever I’m dealing with.

This week, because of Mother’s Day, I talked about my children and some of the things I’m experiencing as a mom.

Today, I want to recognize the woman who put up with my tantrums, kissed my owies and worked hard to make sure I grew up right.


My mom was really young when she had me. I was born a month after her 20th birthday and by the time she was 24 she had three children. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like! I didn’t have my first until I was 24-years-old and one was hard enough.

Growing up I remember her sitting for hours in our living room, creating mix tapes from records for the jazzercise classes she taught. I also remember how proud I was when she taught the Kindergym class at my school – hopping and flying to “Bullfrogs and Butterflies.”

There were times in elementary school when she would stop by my classroom, dressed so fancy for her job as a fragrance model, and the other kids would ask, amazed, “Is that your mom? She’s so pretty!”

As a little girl I would watch her hands as she drove. Her fingers looked so long and skinny. To this day I catch myself looking at my own fingers on the steering wheel, comparing them to hers.

Throughout my childhood my mom had long, thick hair and I always wanted to braid, brush and fix it…which she hated. There were a few occasions where she allowed me to play with it, and I’m sure it took all of her patience to keep from snatching the brush from my hands.


My mom has always stood up for what’s fair and has instilled that value in me. If I feel that myself or someone close to me is getting unreasonable treatment, I have never hesitated to address the situation. Of course, when I was young I used this on trivial issues…but as I’ve matured I’ve come to see the benefit to myself and others of knowing when an issue needs to be dealt with.

My mom gave me a love for literature. When I was young, she read the Little House series and Beverly Cleary books to my brother, sister and I before we went to sleep. As I grew she introduced me to Anne of Green Gables and Rebecca of Stoneybrook Farm. I will never forget sitting and watching the A&E Pride and Prejudice mini-series with her…eagerly anticipating the latest installment each week as I was introduced to Jane Austen. Part of the reason I want to write is because of this love for words that I know she helped to foster.

Each holiday when I was young my mom would make pies: apple, cherry, pumpkin, banana cream. I never had a store-bought crust and to this day I’m definitely a pie snob. When I moved to college, I decided to take on this legacy from her. I volunteered to make the pies for the Thanksgiving meal. I must have called her at least 10 times in the course of making that first pie, but I wanted to get it just right because I had a standard to uphold.


These are just a few of the many things that I love and appreciate about my mom. Luckily I’m able to share them with her now and thank her for the sacrifices she made, the knowledge she gave and the love she provides. I now see that, in itself, is a blessing and I need to not take it for granted.

Happy Mother

I love you, Mom!

I wish I was there to celebrate it with you,

but I’ll be up there in a little while with another grandson for you!

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7 thoughts on “My Mom

  1. I hope you don’t mind, but I want to add a few more things to your list and I don’t have my own blog!
    1. Mom’s sense of humor. I know my own propensity to silliness and my ability to laugh in the face of hardship comes straight from her. Any time we hang out we spend half our time just cracking up over something that’s happened to one of us, we save our funny stories for each other.
    2. Shopping! Now, I know mom doesn’t like to admit that she is like her own mom, but this was definitely passed down at least 2 generations. The only person I ever met who could outshop Grandma was mom. And she never forgets the smokin’ deal she got on something, or forgets to tell you every time she wears it around you.
    3. The other very important lesson I learned from mom is to be myself, and not worry about what others think. I will never forget the time in 4th grade when she wouldn’t let me join the cool girls’ club at school, and I thought she was trying to ruin my life. Well, it wasn’t long before I saw those girls the way she did, as judgmental and just plain mean. I learned at that point that being popular does not make you nice or fun to be around, and surrounded myself with people I liked, who liked me for myself. That is the most important lesson I am trying to instill in my kids today, and I am happy to report that it seems to be working!

    Thanks, Mom, for raising your daughters to be women who are respected and valued wherever they are known (thanks, Jane Austen), and for putting up with Darren, also.

  2. What a beautiful thing to have the time and ability to actually put down in words what you love about your mother. That itself is a gift to her. So often we may think these things – but to be deliberate – to take the time to actually say them out loud – that is a wonderful thing.

    Thanks for letting us listen in!


  3. I am so happy for you… My mother shows her love in many ways, but reading my blog is not one of them. I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me, but instead, to make you realize there are a ton of kids that would love to have a mother like yours. :)

    1. I love that she reads it, especially because we live so far apart. That’s actually one of the reasons I started blogging – to keep far away friends & family up-to-date with us. Oh, and maybe your mom doesn’t read it because you don’t use your real name. Teehee! Just kidding. I know I’m lucky.

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