I’ve always had trouble sleeping. When I was little enough to fit in my parent’s bed with them, I would snuggle in between them after having a bad dream. My mom would rub my back until I fell back asleep. Sometimes, I wasn’t so quiet in my nightly excursions, however. These were the times I would scream, “MOM , I CAN NOT SLEEP.” She would scurry out of bed in her nighty, quickly fetch a pen and paper, sit me at the table and quietly command me to, “write.” I attribute these night time interactions to my present love of writing. She loved me, she cultivated an art within me.
One time, on an absurdly hot summer day, our chore list included raking the freshly mowed lawn. I’m positive my sister and I were more dramatic about having to comb the lawn with our bright orange rakes than we ever should have been. Nonetheless, after 10 minutes of raking, we requested our mom join us. Without question, she grabbed the rusting metal rake from the garage and blistered her hands alongside us.
After joining a club soccer team, practices were no longer a bike ride away. Instead, they were 67 miles away. Since I was merely 13, I couldn’t take the trip alone. So, my mom would feverishly work during the school day so she could take me to soccer practice. She did this three times a week and then on the weekends, she’d drive me to tournaments that we at best 4 hours away. In these car rides, I realized my mom would forever be my best friend.
My mom taught me patience and kindness. She taught me that being hypocritical is detrimental to my soul. She taught me that reading offers a path out and writing offers insight into the person I am. When I switched colleges four times and moved because I was “in love,” my mom always picked up the phone whether I was calling to cry or calling to share an exciting story.
My mother is solid. She is pieces of a million attributes that create a puzzle worthy of an art museum. The way my mom has loved me is far worthier than words, far great than a blog post.
My mom has taught me that love doesn’t stop, not for disagreements, not for misunderstandings, not for long car rides. It simply doesn’t end.
No comments:
Post a Comment