It was 11:47 last night when I realized I wanted to call my mom. I was out with friends at a party, where I should most definitely not be thinking of my mom. Yet, she texted me something so simple, so mundane; “Hi sweetie! What are you up to tonight?” Something in that text made me pause, made me think of my mom.
She told me stories of when I was a baby, how I would snuggle up to her and cry when she tried to remove me from her warm hug. I thought that at age 19, I still cuddled my mom before bed, watching TV with my siblings; and a part of me still wants to cry when she kicks us out. I remember how she would drive me out into the country just to see horses, and she would never, ever, turn me away when I came to her. She always texts me once a day, just to check in. And as simple as that text is, it makes me realize how lucky I have it. I have a mom who cares about me more than myself. I have messed up more than I can count, and each instance a momentous mess up. Some mothers might have given up, or got so mad that they just stop, stop caring, stop texting me everyday, stop letting me cuddle her at night. Some moms wouldn't play with my hair and tickle my arms, each time with an eye roll as I casually outstretch my arm, my eyes telling her that I want to be petted. Only with my mom can I be yelling one moment and then five minutes later be laughing and hugging. No one has made me cry more, and I am so thankful for each of those tears. I can tell it killed her when she made me cry, yet she knew that each tear that slid down my cheek taught me something, taught me how to grow up, how to not make the same mistakes, and each tear, I knew, was out of love.
This article in no way sums up what you mean to me, Mom. You mean the sun and the moon, you mean my childhood walks to the park, letting me stop to blow dandelions. You mean those long drives, those excited calls at swim meets, those dinners you made, those carpool treats you got us. You mean to me those nights I fell asleep in dad's spot in bed, and you let me cuddle you to sugar plum dreams. You mean to me our breakfast dates and your obsession with T-loft and McDonald's.
It was 11:47 when I read my mom's text and left the party to go call her, to tell her I love her. I love her and am the luckiest person in the world to have a mom who cares and loves with as much heart as my mom does. So thank you mom, I’ll text you back today, I promise.
