Mama, Mom, Mommy!

My mom's 60th birthday was last month. She was here visiting me for a week so that we could do our annual trek to Nora Robert's Bed & Breakfast in Boonsboro, MD - a dual birthday celebration for us and a week of spoiling for me. She drove me to and from work all week, fixed me dinner, cleaned my apartment, and did laundry - what a way to spend her birthday week, right? But she was insistent that she just wanted to make my life a little easier for a week. In turn, I took her to the speakeasy and fancy dinner in Old Town and booked the Penthouse at the B&B. It was a lovely time, but not without some minor hiccups. 

I adore my mom. She is a pillar of strength and support in my life who has taught me to believe in myself and to persevere no matter what. As some of you know, our family has had more than its share of difficulties over the past 15 years. They chipped away at our unit little by little but in the process they forged a tight bond between me and my parents. During all of this my parents aged beyond their years and emotionally they were drained over and above their reservoir; and yet, through it all, they continued to push and support me to move beyond the devastation, even as they seemed to get pulled deeper in. In the end, my moving beyond it seemed to pull them out. The three of us are standing on the rubble these days, the foundation is still shaky but we are coming out on the other side of a long battle of depression, anxiety, and despair. 

Which brings me to why I am writing this post. My mother is one of a kind. She may not be outlandish like Ruthie, but she certainly inherited Ruthie's backbone of steel and determination to rise above life's challenges. She has been such an amazing example of strength and fortitude, I feel so fortunate to have her as a mom. While she spent the week spoiling me rotten, she was also battling a round of depression - a little present from dealing with the last 15 years. I wish I could say that I handled it like a champ and supported her the way she has supported me. But I didn't. You see, while mom wanted to spoil me, I wanted to spoil her and so I was frustrated when she wasn't excited about dinner plans and such. I didn't see what she was struggling with and was frustrated. The truth is, I didn't want to see. I want everything that has happened to just be done and forgotten, but it isn't and I don't always handle that super well. In the end the strength of our unit came through and we were able to talk about it - as we do with everything else - and she told me what was going on and we managed to have a mostly lovely week.  

Mom's struggle is real and difficult. She is no longer the flawless and fearless woman of my youth, nor is she the pillar (and sometimes enemy) of my teen years - she is now the friend of my adulthood. She is a woman who has overcome so much, she has wounds and scars, flaws and strengths, she suffers and succeeds, she cries a lot and laughs too loud, she is a terrible speller who is always trying to learn new things, she is a terrific and creative cook, she knows just where everything belongs and will put it there (even if you would rather she not rearrange your bedroom), she loves to dance and watch stupid movies, and she is a wonderful caring person who just wants what is best for her family. She is not perfect by any means, but she tries so hard to make life perfect for her family. She is one great mom and I am so happy that she is mine.