I saw a quote the other day that read, "Sometimes I open my mouth, and my mother comes out." I couldn't relate more. The older I get, the more I talk, dress and act like my mom. Sometimes, I can answer the phone, and callers will talk to me thinking I am her. Occasionally, I can even walk into a room of strangers, and people will ask if I am her daughter. This could be your worst nightmare or your biggest blessing, but personally I couldn't be more blessed -- because my mom is the best.
Every morning I wake up, I have a text from her; whether it's a question, an I love you, or some daily gossip. I know I always have her to talk to. I get ready for the day, and I go through the same routine, because I am Type-A -- like her. I put on some dark lipstick, that no one likes but her and I, because she thinks I am pretty no matter what. I usually end up cooking at some point in the day -- which I know how to do, because I watched her make every meal for me for eighteen marvelous years. I then go to school, because I know that it makes her proud. Throughout my day I order the same coffee as her, I check my Facebook to see what she's doing, and I use my manners to everyone I meet because she led by example. If I have a bad day, I can call her. If I have a good day, I can call her. When I see my friends throughout the day, I hug them extra -- because my mom raised me to love and appreciate. When the afternoon hits, I go to meetings, am always punctual, and always stressed -- because I wouldn't be her daughter if I wasn't. By the end of the day, I watch our favorite shows, like "The Voice," so we have something else to talk about. I take a bath -- because she always takes baths -- and then I go to sleep, and do it all again. Just like her.
For twenty-one years she's instilled these little traits and patterns into me. She's never missed a beat. She's never missed a game, a meal, an award ceremony, a date, a birthday party, a break up, a bad day, a drivers test, a celebration or anything else. The special part about my mom is that I also have a sister, and she does the same for her! I don't know how she does it, but she does. She works, she runs clubs, she helps, she gives, she cooks, she volunteers, she works out, she cleans, and she has new sheets on my bed every single time I come home from college. She is the true blessing here.
Now, I'm not saying this is easy, or that it's always rainbows and butterflies. She cries sometimes, she yells sometimes, and she doesn't know what to do or how to do it sometimes... but at the end of the day, she always makes things better. She always makes it work, and she does it all without even saying she's tired.
What I am saying is: thank you, Mom. Thank you for being the best and making me be the best. You are the real blessing, and I know you don't think you do enough, but you do the most.
