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The Kind of Mom I Want to be

The Kind of Mom I Want to be

My mom told me today that she's my biggest fan.

What do I say from there? How do I find the words to sum up what I think about her?

It's nearly an impossible thing to have letters arranged into words in such a way to describe the emotion I have for her. What language is there for this?

For nearly 43 years since I've been on this earth, she has always been a constant. With the ring of a phone, or the turn of a door knob, she has always been right there. With good or bad news, she's the first one I go to. Through all of the joys and all of the heartbreaks, she's been the one. She is the salt in my tears. She is the voice in my laughter.

No artist, no scholar, no spiritual leader could hold a light to her grace, her beauty, her knowledge; they would all fall away in her shadow. She is everything I could ever hope to be. Enduring so much in life and still standing. She's the strongest person I have ever known, and yet there's a tender fragility there.

She gave me wings to fly before I could even walk. She's every note of every song I ever sang. She's infused with the purest love, and that love radiates from her to everyone she knows. She's a much kinder person than I.

The gentle movement of her hands, the softness in her eyes, the way she stands with one arm crossed and the other raised up for a resting spot for her chin; she's so beautiful.

Although we can sometimes clash more turbulent than the deepest ocean currents, I appreciate every single thing she says, and does, and is. She's my very best friend from all of my yesterdays and all of my tomorrows to come. Forever and ever and always.

All I know to be true and good in this world is because of her. She has shown the way to be forgiving, kind, a friend, a leader and a follower, a listener, giving, goofy and serious, understanding and strong and independent. Decent. A good human being.

She encourages me and pushes me and supports me, and she loves me, and I recognize that. I see her. I love her with everything I am and everything I've yet to be.

I'm sure she was gifted these things from her mom, who got it from her mom, and so on and so on.

How I got so lucky I will never know, and I can only hope that my daughter, and my son, will get some of that good stuff from me.  

***

Categories: Empty Nest

Angela Smith

Angela is an introverted photographer, writer, gardener, and hiker. A lover of all animals including the loves of her life, her two kids, Tyler and Jolie. She writes SmithShack71.
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