Sunday, May 11, 2014

My Mom

I love how much she loves these rotten little creatures.
I don't know anyone else who would come to visit and wear herself out trying to make things easier for me and try to call it a vacation. I don't know anyone else who would hand roll 100 meatballs, make giant pots of homemade sauce to fill my freezer, or make my husband prime rib when she shouldn't be doing much of anything at all.

I don't know anyone else who will fight me to help out when I truly should be the one helping her.

My mom has Multiple Sclerosis and a back that is all but broken among a host of other consistent physical challenges that I don't even know if I could recall. She made a comment to me that her hip might be broken and then she proceeded to come to Georgia to see her daughter and son-in-law.  I mean...

We don't have a picture-perfect relationship by any stretch, but I am truly grateful for all of the love she has in her heart.

She aches when I ache. She aches even when she thinks I'm aching. She cries for me all of the time. I don't know anyone else who cares for me and loves me like she does. I don't know anyone who, if given the chance, would take away all of mine and Jimmy's stuff by taking it on herself.

I worry about my mom all of the time and I know she worries about me and sometimes we let each other know that in between all of the bickering. Guess that means we're mother and daughter.

By being my Mother's daughter, I've learned to love, care and nurture as well as clean and cook. All things that should be wonderfully handy come October.

And if I had paid closer attention I would probably know how to sew and whistle like a boss. 

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

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