Yesterday was Mother’s Day.  Normally I would have done a special post telling the world how wonderful my mother is.   (She really is Wonderful.)  But I was away from the computer enjoying the day with my children.

We went to the Tennessee Renaissance Festival and had a wonderful time. We came home sunscreen and sweat encrusted, and pleasantly exhausted.  It was all we could do to keep our heads up long enough to eat dinner.  As a result everyone skipped showers and went straight to bed.  Which means I woke up just as cover in dried sweat and old sunscreen.  The nice warm shower this morning was very welcome.  (I will be washing all the bedding later today.)

I enjoyed my Mother’s Day.  Let me tell you a little about the woman that made my life possible and continues to do so.

My mom, Frances, was born and raised in Florida.  She tells stories of riding horses and sailing in a boat her dad built.  When I was around two we didn’t have a lot of money and I wanted a cookie.  We didn’t have any cookies so she put frosting on a Ritz cracker and gave that to me. She read to me and told me stories. She took my brother and I to the circus even though it ended with us stranded with a flat tire.

She dressed up with us on Halloween and went to every choir concert or award ceremony all through our school years.  She drove me to and from school everyday after I got in a fight with my cousin on the school bus that ended with my math homework flying out of the window. (I managed to save the book.)

She made me eat peas. She bakes homemade peanut butter cookies that are the best.  She occasionally curses when startled or frustrated then automatically apologizes to God.   She is my mom. And she is the best mom I could ever wish for.

She comes to my house on my work weeks to watch over my kids when I have to go to work at night.  She takes them to school on those days and often picks them up too so I can get a few extra minutes of sleep.  She fills in for me when there are things I just can’t stretch far enough to do. (It’s hard to be in two places at once, and with two kids that is often necessary.)

She is the only person in the entire world who remembers I don’t like the chicken in chicken noodle soup.   When I was sick she brought me a bowl with all of the chicken carefully removed.   A bunch of flowers, a pretty card, and a dozen donuts isn’t enough to show her how much I appreciate everything she has done and continues to do.

She was the first person to lay eyes on my poetry chapbook and I made sure she got the first copy too.  Her smile felt like more of a gift to me than me giving a gift to her.

I think I might call her up and see if she would like to go out for coffee later today too.  I love my mom.




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