Well this Valentine's Day you only get one. See this Valentine's Day (and the days leading up to it) I've been thinking a lot about love and this person repeatedly entered my mind:
My Mommy.
(I vowed I'd call her Mommy for the rest of my life. But when I got to high school and noticed it wasn't cool, I forced myself to say "Mom." I swear it took a year to transition.)
I've been thinking about my mom not only because of how much I love her but also because she was the first person to teach me love: what is love, how to love, who to love, and everything in between.
My mom met my dad, got engaged, got married, gave birth to a special needs child, and was pregnant with her second all before she turned twenty. She wasn't planning on becoming a mother so young, but she was willing to give up her dreams and educational ambitions because of love. She loved my dad and she loved my oldest sister, Jenny, so she started her longest-running profession: stay-at-home mother and homemaker.
For awhile, my mom took a lot of criticism for bearing any more children after having a special needs child, particularly from her mother-in-law. I could only imagine how discouraging that type of criticism would be to a 20-year old young newlywed mother. Why did she have more kids? I don't know everything, but I know that she loved and adored children. She loved family and wanted to add to hers.
I am so grateful she did because, as child number 6, I would've had no chance at all of having her be my wonderful mother had she given up at 1...or 5 for that matter.
I can relay countless expressions of love from my mom, but a better tribute would be one that people would actually read. So I'll list the highlights.
My mom encouraged me in my talents
When I was 10, I was playing a bunch of Disney songs by ear. I wanted to take piano lessons so badly. My mom saw this determination and paid for me to take private lessons from that time until I graduated high school. When I was 11, the orchestra teachers came to my elementary school to recruit string players. I was fascinated by the violin. I asked my mother if I could play it. She not only allowed me to but also paid for private lessons up until high school as well.
My mom encouraged me in my non-talents.
I was a natural performer from birth. I needed to be the center of attention. While perhaps some in my family tried to squash that need, my mom nourished it. For example, I would come up with synchronized swimming routines in the pool as a kid (by myself, mind you) or interpretive dances to REO Speedwagon songs. She would watch and also encourage others in the family to watch.
She never left me. Ever.
Maybe this isn't healthy now, but I was sure grateful at the time. When I was sick, my mom would always feed me crackers and sprite, stay by my bedside, and rub my hair until I fell asleep. That's a long time! And she would do this all the time. Occasionally she would snuggle me in my bed. And I got very accustomed to afternoon cuddle naps with my mom in her bed (in Kindergarten we only had half-days so it was just me and her at home).
I am a grown woman, and still to this day when I get pretty aggressively ill, the first words out of my mouth are a mindless groan, "Mo-oomm......"
Emotionally, she is wonder woman.
My mom is the most in-touch with her emotions as anyone else in this world. It was always OK to cry in front of her. It was always OK to feel anger, hurt, elation, giddiness, or any emotion. She never judged me for it or made me feel like it was unacceptable. She was just there for me in whatever capacity I needed her. She still is.
She is so feminine and domestic.
My mom is such an example of what a Mormon housewife should be. She has lots of kids, she can cook, she can paint, she can sing, she can play the piano, she can sew. Oh man, and does she ever sew well. I can't even sew a button.
The fact is, among all the things she has done for me, the best of all is that she loved me unconditionally, and in turn, I know how to love.
And I love her!
Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy!
