Momma

     She sits at the end of her couch, feet pulled up under her. She watches the Game Show network, Doctor Pimple Popper, Cops and Little House on the Prairie. Her little tea cup Yorkie, Sampson, is curled up either next to her, or nestled in her lap or on her neck at the top of the couch. She does her household chores herself, even though she has to pace herself nowadays. Her energy level is low, but she gives it all she has. Laundry, dishes, fixing supper for her and her grandson (he lives with her) are still done with pride and failing strength. She’s been doing them all of her life, and it’s hard for her to admit when she needs help with the work. Yes, she’s a proud woman, my momma.

    I’ll be fifty-nine in August. She still introduces me as “her baby’. I used to cringe at that when I was younger. I beam with joy when she says it now. I’m the youngest of her four children. I know they’re all “her babies”, but I’m the last born. I get to be the last one to be babied by momma, so I get to keep the title. My baby, Tim, gets the same treatment. It makes up for being the last one to the party, ya know?

    It took me a lot of years to appreciate my mom. I had four children of my own before I realized just how much work went into this parenting thing. It’s the hardest job anyone can do. There’s no vacation, no PTO, and no holidays. The pay is non-existent, the hours literally never end, and you always get the blame for messing the kid up, even though the training program is all hands-on with no instruction manual or rules book. If you do your job correctly, they leave you high and dry for someone else. If you do it wrong, they usually do that, too. Somehow, though, it’s all worth it.

    My momma was the first woman I ever loved. She loved me before we even met. She’s always been unconditional with that love. Even when I was unlovable, wronged her, and my actions and words would have made anyone else abandon and detest me, she still loved me. She’s always been there for me. Many times, I didn’t deserve it. She’s always told me the truth, even when I didn’t want to hear it. She’s been my advisor, mentor and friend for my entire life. I’ve not always followed her advice, but I’ve grown to appreciate it. I’ve grown to know that she’s usually right.

    I had to work the weekend of Mother’s Day. I barely had time to find Mom a card and get her some last-minute Wally-World flowers and stick them in a used vase. She acted like they were a bouquet of rare quality and said, as she does, “you didn’t have to get me anything. You’re busy, and it’s not a big deal. It’s just another day”. Well, I hate to disagree with my momma, but she’s wrong. There’s a National Day of (fill in the blank) for just about everything in our world today. Just about everyone gets a day. A lot of them are made up by various companies to get you to buy flowers or cards. Heck, I think that’s exactly how Mother’s Day started. But if there’s one category of people who deserve to have a National Day of Recognition, it’s Mothers. Maybe they even deserve the whole month, just as so many people refer to their “Birth Month Celebration” nowadays, like it was some kinda extended Hanukkah where we should bring them gifts and commemorate them for the entire month. As much as I abhor that idea for birthdays, I’m pretty sure Mom deserves it. For that matter, moms really rate celebrating them every day of the year. I mean, think about it. When did your mom stop celebrating you? Mine hasn’t stopped yet, and I’m not that great. Yup, I think my Mom deserves flowers, candy, gifts and cards every single day of the year. She’s that awesome. I just wish my bank account would allow that kinda treatment for my momma. Sadly, it does not. She has to settle for a daily phone call, the occasional visit, and some sad little flowers in a used vase once a year. Just know this, Mom-you are worth so much more in my heart and in my life than what I can express in gifts, or on paper. I’m sorry you don’t have much energy after over eight decades of life, but I’m so much better off as a person for being one of the people you spent that energy on. Thank you. I Love You, Momma.

Signed

Your Baby