As I was writing my Father’s Day post, it occurred to me that I owed you a Mother’s Day post. We were all a little bit busy around Mother’s Day with Tater’s birth. But that doesn’t mean I can ignore my marvelous mama. So here you go.
She is quirky and stubborn and strong and smart. When she really gets going, we call her “Tazmanian Lulu.” She is the rare combination of numbers geek and creative visionary. She is a phenomenal cook and she never, ever gets lost. She is fearless and the most passionate person I know.
I’ve written about my relationship with my mom before. We are cut from the same cloth, for better or worse. In high school, we spent many nights at the kitchen table crying over my pre-calculus homework. I cried because I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. She cried because it was so painfully obvious to her that she couldn’t make it any simpler for me.
As an adult, she is one of my very best friends. She is perhaps the only person in the world who really sees me. Together, we are like a creative tsunami, capable of creating an entire world from paint and styrofoam. Can you see the mountains? There were mountains, made from some kind of putty something and then painted to more accurately reflect the topography of each continent. I’m not even joking.
She was young when she met my dad, and she found in him the family she had always longed for. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: together, they are magic.
She has a very different relationship with each of us. She tends to be overly protective of her boys. Both of my brothers have fought demons, and their struggles have pulled them away from the family. But time has brought them back, and no one is happier about that than my mom. On the rare occasions we are all together, she absolutely vibrates with joy.
My mom is more friend than parent to my sister and I. She is a confidante and an adviser. And she knows everything there is to know about babies. And toddlers. And kids. And canning peaches. And buying houses. And doing your taxes. And pretty much everything else.
And don’t even get me started on my mom as a grandma. She wins. Every time. She is every grandchild’s favorite, the person they reach for when they are happy or sad or scared. She is the only one who can make them smile or comfort them. When Grandma’s in the room, the rest of us might as well just go home, because those grandbabies only have eyes for her.
There is no one Moo would rather spend time with, and I’m sure Tater will be just the same. There’s just something special about Grandma.
My mom had a complicated relationship with her mother, but there is nothing complicated about her relationship with her four kids. She is all heart, for better or for worse. And we love her for it.