Has anyone out there ever really calculated all the things that a mother does? Oh, I’m sure they’ve tried. But I’m not sure it’s possible to come up with a complete job description. Just when you think you have recorded every possible thing a mother is required to do, something new will inevitably make its way onto the list.
Things like, “Teach older child not to turn on the dryer when younger child is inside.” And, “Teach younger child not to climb into the dryer.”
Not that anything like that has ever happened in my family.
The more experience I get as a mother, the more in awe I am of my own mother. She is awesome. Terrific. There are no words to describe how amazing she is.
So here, in black and white, I’d just like to take a moment to say thank you to her, and to all the other mothers out there who make their children feel loved and important, who make sure their children are warm and well-fed and clean and safe and happy.
Mom, thank you.
Thank you for clean underwear in my drawer. I never really knew how it got there. Never thought about it, really. All I knew was, when I opened my drawer, I always had clean undies and socks. Thanks.
Thank you for making sure I ate breakfast every morning before I went to school. Even when I refused to get out of bed on time, and made you and everyone else in the house late, you always made sure that I at least had a banana or a piece of toast in my hand, as we rushed out the door.
Thanks for wearing panty hose with runs in them, so that I could have that new pair of shoes.
Thanks for saying, “No, I don’t really care for apple pie, and I’m not hungry anyway,” when there was only one piece left. (That’s going above and beyond the call of duty, in my opinion.)
Thank you for teaching me to stand up straight, and look people in the eye, and smile.
Thank you for telling me, over and over again, that I could do anything I set my mind to. I believed you.
Thank you for not letting me get by with average grades, when you knew I was capable of more.
Thank you for teaching me that being kind is more important than being popular.
Thank you for teaching me that the girl who doesn’t date much in high school is often the girl all the boys want to marry, once they’re out of college.
Thank you for waiting up for me, when I was on a date, and acting excited to hear all the details. I knew you’d be waiting, and believe it or not, I looked forward to those girl-talks. They were fun.
Thank you for forcing me to run for freshman office, my first year of college. I thought you were being pushy at the time. But when I won the election, I was glad. I wouldn’t have had the courage to try if you hadn’t told me I didn’t have a choice. So, thanks for being pushy when you needed to be.
Thank you for teaching me to believe in myself.
I guess, Mom, what I’m trying to say is, thank you for being my best friend. I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.
Proverbs 31:28 “Her children arise and call her blessed . . .”