Happy Mother's Day, Mom

I only had you for 23 years. 23 birthdays, Christmas', Mother's Days. I know I told you a thousand times that I loved you. We shared private jokes. I understood you and you understood me. Probably more than I acknowledged or realized at the time. We laughed, we cried, we argued, we prayed. We shared happiness, worry, fear, shame, joy, boredom, soap operas, m&m's, mmmm velvet, knowledge spoken and unspoken, stories, memories, hopes and dreams. I ran from you. I ran to you. I hated your nosiness, but longed for you to know what was going on with me. Thought you were stupid, but wanted your expert opinion on boys, money, life in general.
In the 12 years I've spent without you, I've really come to understand on a much deeper level who you really were. Especially in the past 3 years. Being a mother myself opened up a whole new can of worms. I see you more clearly now. A woman who loved deeply. With her whole heart and more. A woman who wanted to give me the world, but couldn't and it broke your heart. A woman who wanted to teach me to do things differently than she did, but didn't know how. A woman whose heart broke everytime her child grew more and more independent. First from fear of losing that child, then from fear of not giving the child what she needed to survive in this world. A complex woman who didn't always know how to express her hurts, wants, fears, expectations. Who was afraid of reaching for the unreachable for fear of failing. A woman who wanted it all but didn't know how to juggle it all. Didn't know how to have time for herself while giving her family the things they needed. A woman who sacrificed her own dreams while watching the dreams of her children become fulfilled. Yes, a woman who loved with her whole heart.

I know these things, because I am that woman now.

I want to tell you my fears and hear your advice on how it will all work out if I put God first and family second. Because what really matters after those things? I wanted to see your face when I said I was pregnant that first time because I know how shocked you would have been to see your little drifter settling down. I know how happy it would have made you to hold your first grandson. I want to hear that laugh when I call and tell you that Laine keeps telling me "no" and Jackson keeps eating the newspaper. I want to see the pride in your eyes when you are telling your friends about my family. I want to feel the safety of your warm hugs and hear you say "Girl, baby!" But most of all I want to say I'm sorry for being such a difficult child. For not giving you enough credit where credit was due. And I want to let you know that if I'm half the mom to my boys as you were to me, then they will be loved beyond measure. I appreciate all you did for me, all you sacrificed, all you taught, all you soothed, all you loved for me.

I miss you so much. I love you, Mom.