So this morning, I called my mom, as I do daily. 8 a.m. Our morning call. We spoke for at least 10 minutes, before I realized the date. January 9th. Her birthday. Realizing the date, I let out a “Oh my God! Today is your birthday!” feeling like a complete heel. But mom, with all her class & grace, simply said, “thank you.”
She didn’t say, “What took you so long?” or “It’s about time you remembered!” as I might have said, had someone not remembered the date. But again, this is my mom we’re talking about.
This is the mom who baked cookies every day before my brother and I got home from school, and had a glass of milk ready as soon as we sat down. This is the mom who asked about our day, and genuinely listened to our answers. This is the mom who invited all of our friends over for sleepovers, birthdays, pool parties and basically any time we asked because she wanted to know who we were hanging out with. And I’m sure, wanted to keep an eye on us as well!
This is the mom who stayed home for the first 17 years of my life, who was fully invested in our well-being, helping with homework, projects, bringing forgotten lunches to school, volunteering on field trips, and so much more.
This is the mom who made sure we went to Church every Sunday, as a family. Even when we didn’t feel like it. Even when she didn’t feel like it. Because faith is not a part-time or “when you feel like it” kind-of-thing.
This is the mom who stayed up at night, waiting to hear the sound of the front door opening, after I’d gone out on a date. While she wanted to make sure I got home safe, I’m sure part of it was to talk all about the date.
This is the mom who ironed my dad’s shirts, and danced around with a can of Starch, pretending it was a microphone, singing Patsy Cline.
This is the mom who sacrificed, scrimped and saved, so that my brother and I could go to the college of our choice.
She may not realize the profound impact she’s had on me, but today, she deserves to know how much she’s admired, respected, and honored. She needs to know that I appreciate everything she’s done for me, that I look to her even today, for advice & guidance.
January 9th may be just another day to some. But to me, it’s the day a hero was born.
Happy Birthday, Mom.