The older I get, the more I realize that I am becoming like my mom. I think this is every daughter’s fear as we struggle through our teenage years while arguing about boys, curfews, chores, and going to gravel road parties where yes Mom, they are drinking alcohol, but aren’t you glad I was honest and told you about it? (Honesty in that case, was not appreciated.) It wasn’t until I started dating my first serious boyfriend Andrew that she began to trust me. My mom and sisters adored Andrew because he was such a nice boy (and still is) and was probably a good influence on me.
I went to college, and made some mistakes here and there. Overall, I think I made her proud. The day I graduated, I took off for Arizona and the Grand Canyon. Later that Summer, my mom came to visit – her first vacation in over 10 years. It meant the world for her to come out of her comfort zone and see the amazing life I was living out West. Then came Florida, and that place was a quite a challenge. I struggled to find friends, a good job, and a balance between missing my family and real friends while trying to enjoy a different place. I remember one email she sent to me that said, “growing up just sucks for you sometimes”, and in that period, it was so true.
When Nashville and the house remodel called, my mom answered by spending several days scraping wallpaper and painting closets. Basically doing yucky jobs because that’s what mom’s do. They help. And I couldn’t have been more thankful. They also buy paint and iron tiki torches for their daughter’s new house with their work discount, which was awesome.
In 2007, I moved back to St. Louis, alone, and ready to start over. She took me in for a month before we both decided it was time for me to move my independent self to Tower Grove. I didn’t tell her about the two gunshots I heard when I lived there; she would’ve flipped. Then I met Brian, and I, my sisters, and my mom fell in love with him. I think my mom was over the moon when Brian let her in on the secret that he was going to propose during our Colorado trip. Happily married seven months, I see that I am doing more and more things as my mom does them – like hanging my sheets on the line to dry, reading and sunning in the backyard, gardening and keeping fresh flowers in the house at all times, and sending cards because it’s just a nice thing to do.
Not only do I do things like her, I am so thankful for what she has taught me – how to properly iron a shirt, that clothes go in the hamper (not on the floor), how to sew, how to be the bigger person (which has served me well in the past few years), how to tell it like it is, and how to be independent. I could go on listing lessons and things that she has passed on to me, but that’s not really the point.
The point is that I love my mom more than she knows, and I think she is the most wonderful role model a daughter could ask for. I’m forever grateful for the lessons she continues to teach me. Happy Mother’s Day Mom, from your favorite. 123.