Today I am in Phoeniz and my son is in South Carolina. This is my first Mother’s Day away from my son and it might be my last with him around. He is leaving home soon, and he’s my only child. So this Mother’s Day I am a little emotional but we do what we have to do; don’t we? And here I am, in a strange state with no friends or family and not even in my own home and I’m 3 hrs earlier than my family. Truth be told I want to go home.
Enough about me…
Today is Mother’s Day and I want to take a moment to talk about my mother. I haven’t seen her in a couple of years and I worry about her. She’s alone in another state and getting to that age where she has health issues and whatnot. I’m hoping to get her to move closer to me when all the dust settles on our relocation. That would make me happy.
My mother is smart and cute while being as dippy as sunnyside up eggs. She has always seemed strong and confident and yet I know now that she wasn’t. As a child we think our parents have their crap together and they are smartest people we know. The kisser of owies; the knower of mysteries like: Where do butterflies come from and the complexities of tying shoes. The cooker of food and the cleaner of the house as well as the warden when grounded or there were chores that had been ignored. Mothers are the bringers of soup when we’re sick, the feelers of heads and wiper of brows.
My mother was all of those things to me; not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but her virtues outweigh her faults. She means well but assigns guilt trips like a travel agent during the vacation months. She’s short and sassy and writes romance books. She records her TV shows and fast forwards through the things I find interesting and watches the part I find boring. She’s reasonably tech sufficient (as in she uses the internet, laptops and DVR and sends email) but she sometimes makes my brain cells jump off ledges to their deaths over simple instructions on how to fix issues or how to copy and paste or attach something to an email.
She was interviewed in a newspaper for creating the word: Frustrilities. it’s a combo of Frustration and Hostilities. She came in to where I worked and waged war with the manager who was rude on the phone. (I was on lunch and drive thru went off, so I put the phone down and answered the drive thru even though I was clocked out and on lunch. The manager picked up the phone and said: “Answer the G damn drive through!” Not knowing who was on the line…and there was no reason to use that kind of language.) She took in foster children, taught sunday school, prayed nightly. She threw forks, pitched hissy fits and made mistakes. During an family spat her sister sent her a letter addressed to S.Hitt. and she responded with:
Dear M.F. She’s written several books and is hard headed.
She’s weathered the loss of a child, both her parents, and her husband. She picked up the pieces and learned to drive at age 50, she’s been self sufficient and learning to get along by herself. I’m proud of her accomplishments, I’m proud to be her daughter. I will be calling her this evening… and I’ll tell her this then. She’s my last parent, and we’ve lost two of her brothers this last two years. I worry that she will be next and that no one will know since she lives by herself in another state. I want to take her shopping with me, I want to help her with her books and teach her how to properly use her technology. I do NOT want her to live with me 😛 I just want her nearby.
For all my followers I hope you had a great mom or have a great mother to your children.