If Mother's Knew Everything

Dear Mom,

Mother's day approaches again, and again I get to reflect on all the wonderful things that you have done for me. But this mother's day, I have something different to offer you. Flowers, mugs, scarves and cheesy wall art are not the only gifts that mother's deserve. Especially you. You deserve the world on a platinum platter, but instead, I will share a tidbit of truth with you. I never told you this, but there was a question you asked me when I was younger. You asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I answered you in the way you would expect. I told you I wanted to be just like my dad. You smiled and nodded your head. "Of course, you're such a daddy's girl." And I began my path towards being an accountant, just like my father. I started with lumber piling, then moved into customer service, changed to a janitor, morphed into a level 2 licensed insurance broker. Through my journey, I remembered all the different kinds of jobs you had as well when I was growing up. You processed all of the milk we had on the farm, turned it into cream, cottage cheese and butter. You were always doing haircuts and dye jobs, not to mention perms, for your friends and family, whenever they asked it of you. When we moved, you also moved onto corrective chiropracting, setting bones and moving muscles back to where they belonged. At the same time, you decided you could also cook the breakfast shift at one of the local restaurants. And then you turned around and started teaching English as a second language at the local community college. In conclusion, you have occupied the role of wife, mother, grandmother, mentor, friend, teacher, chef, physical caregiver, receptionist and so much more. And with that, here comes my confession.

You are the one I wanted to be when I grew up. I still want to be you when I grow up. The insurmountable skill that occupies only you astounds me daily. Every time I get to eat your marvelous food. Every time I need you to move my ribs back in place, or shove my vertebrae back in (I still remember the time you tricked me into showing you my broken arm, you set it in one smooth motion that made the pain last a split second. I wasn't even sure it had happened). I truly want to be you. I want to be able to acquire more skills, make more friends, help more people. I want to effect the lives of the people around me with just my hospitality. I want my grandchildren to call me their best friend. Already, I have teasing remarks from my friends that I have ulterior motives to make them larger, as I tend to insist on feeding them every time they come into our house. I laugh and remember exactly why I am that way. You made me that way.

Another secret I've never told you, one that I know you may already know, (as you have known many before I told you in the past. Which is why I always asked if you had eyes on the back of your head) is that I broke a lava lamp in the Hardware Store. I was 12 years old at the time and it was around Christmas. We were doing some last minute shopping for the family and I needed to get Tracie something. As we walked down the aisles, I got preoccupied with these small, desk-size lava lamp. Inside it's dome, floated blobs of her then-favorite color, lime green. As I moved to turn it upside down, the top of the box (which I did not see was insecure) popped open and it's contents spilled on the floor and shattered into a million pieces.

I was the only one in the aisle. Panicking, I set the empty box on the shelf and escaped quickly, scurrying back to your side. I was so ashamed. Later on, I went back to see if anyone had seen the mess, and the mess had disappeared. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. The guilt ate away at me for years. I wondered what I could possibly do. What I should have done. What you would have told me to do. Hopefully, you can forgive me for my misdeed. Years have gone by since, and that same Hardware store sold me a broken pitcher, so I think the universe has evened us out now. The next time that happens, I promise I'll do the right thing. And blame it on someone else :P