It has been forever (thirteen years) since my mother died. She was killed in a car crash when an off duty police officer ran a red light sending her Ford Explorer flying. It's been so long that I really don't consciously think of her that often. I used to think to call her when something was going on or wish I could when I was trying to cook lasagna the way she did - note to all you parents, write down your favorite recipes, your kids may want them one day. All in all though, to be honest with you, I don't think of my mom that much. Today is mothers day and I didn't remember my mom until my sister mentioned her and if I remember correctly this is usually how it goes. On Mother's Day I think of my amazing step mom, Kathy who stepped up to the plate and has been such a God sent blessing to my dad and our family. I think of my aunt Deb who has influenced me so much over the years. I mostly think of myself and my darling kids with their gifts of homemade cards, a pine cone, yard picked flowers and bag of earl grey tea, plus the frequent snuggles I am getting today.
The times I mostly think of my mom are when I'm in the "workshop" crafting, building, painting, planting and creating. My dad is the most handy and competent do it yourselfer that I know but DIY dads don't always create DIY daughters. It was my brother who was alongside dad putzing around in the garage, on the house and on random vehicles. I didn't start doing my own crafts and tinkering until I was married. While my dad helps walk me through projects I credit my mom for the desire and gumption I have to do the stuff I do.
There was nothing my mom wouldn't do. My parents liked to buy houses, fix them up and then sell them. I'm not sure if that was the plan or if they just got bored once they had the house how they wanted. One year they moved us into this old farm house we called a barn. We hated it until we loved it and then of course they rented it out and bought a house a couple streets over. When we moved in to the "barn" you could sweep the upstairs and just push the dirt into the cracks in the floor to the downstairs. In the actual barn/shed that was on this property there was a pile of wood from an old gym floor. My mom used it to build the most beautiful wooden floor, sanded and sanded it, stained it and wala totally upgraded the house. She textured walls, she changed the brakes on a VW bug, laid sod and even did some body work on an old pick up. My mom was totally capable and she operated on whims - a lot like me. She NEVER ran out of ideas. Whenever I talk to my uncle and tell him what I'm up to even if it's just painting a room, he says I'm just like my mom.
My mom truly thought I was awesome. To this day much of the confidence I have I know stems from the unconditional love I received from her. My sister and I ran cross country in high school and we sucked - as in we were always at the back of the pack. I felt like a loser until I saw how truly impressed and beside herself my mom was that we could run a three mile race. She actually thought I was brilliant. She was tickled pink by us kids - like I am with my kids.
To all the moms, all the STEP MOMS - who are often less recognized despite the fact that their job is harder than any other, to all the dad-moms, all the aunts, grandmas, friends and caretakers who speak love into the lives of others and empower them with your awe, bless you and Happy Mother's Day!