As many of you know, my Mom just passed away on Friday. At the moment, I am overwhelmed by all the thoughts and emotions involved in this process of grieving and making arrangements, but it doesn’t feel right to not have a post about her.
I can’t quite put everything into words at the moment, but in lieu of a new post, here is one I wrote in October of 2011.
I’m remembering you mama. I love you always and you still inspire me.
You know when first asked that question, “who inspires you?,” I think there are very typical people who come to mind. We have all heard of the names Mother Teresa, Mohandas Gandhi, or conversely to Gandhi, Winston Churchill. The list goes on…
We recognize these names, because these people have immortalized themselves by making the life they lived so big that their good deeds, ideas, and acts were able to touch the lives of so many. The reach of their deeds now extends past the number of years they were on this earth and lives on in those they’ve inspired.
These house-hold inspirational figures like Mother Teresa, Mohandas Gandhi, and Winston Churchill do inspire me; each in their own way.
So, when asked this question, my mind immediately jumps to them, but then my mind jumps to another common inspiration, my Mom. I mean, I think there are a lot of people who are inspired by their Moms and family members. I don’t mean to diminish their Moms and families, or mine, by saying it is “common.”
My Mom is a miracle. She doesn’t know it. She doesn’t realize how magical she is, and she doesn’t know that I KNOW all the ways that she is truly special. She doesn’t realize, because my mom is hard on herself. Much in the same way I am incredibly hard on myself. I probably learned it from her. She doesn’t know her worth and she definitely doesn’t get told her value enough. To me, she is the most precious part of my world. Which is why I think it is important to express to her some of the ways she has inspired me.
First, let me state, that my Mom has not had an easy life. She lost both her parents at a difficult time in her life and this lead to more difficult times after their death. It was a struggle for her and she lost herself for a while in grief and depression and other things… until she had me. That is what she has told me at least. She has told me that having me was a miracle for her. I guess that makes us each other’s miracles.
She has been criticized for the ways she has raised me, it wasn’t conventional, but she gave me every ounce of herself and her love. And you may think, well of course she did, she is your mom, that is what moms do. But… my mom sacrificed herself in so many ways. I don’t think I could ever offer her a thank you that would fully encompass the gratitude I wish to give her.
My Mom taught me the value of the little things in life.
She taught me creativity.
She taught me the value of an animal and it’s love.
She taught me the importance of learning to cook. (This she did not teach by showing me how to cook, but actually by showing me how bad cooking could be… it worked in reverse).
She taught me to believe in mysteries and to never rule out the “impossible.”
She taught me to always question, and that if you are old enough to ask a question you are old enough to know the answer.
She taught me selflessness.
She taught me courage.
She taught me strength.
She taught me to always follow my heart.
She taught me to say I love you, and mean it.
She taught me all the lessons she learned in her tough life so that I wouldn’t need to learn them the hard way.
She taught me to hold my head high, smile, and keep going when things are tough.
She taught me the importance of exercise and a healthy diet.
She taught me to get back up after you fall, every time.
She taught me that hard work pays off.
She taught me the power of a women.
She taught me so many things and she gave me even more; probably more than I know.
My Mom walked me to school every single day when I was in Elementary school. It was probably a 15 to 20 minute walk. We did that every morning and every afternoon. On those walks she became my best friend. We talked about my day, my teachers, my friends, my crushes, my girl drama, my fears, and she kept all my secrets.
My Mom was a safety vault of all of my most precious moments, ideas, and secrets; she still is.
Some people joke about or even cringe at the thought of becoming their Mother; I can only hope that I become a fraction of the person she is.
I have no idea where I would be without her. Without all of her lessons or without all of her love.
She may not be a house-hold name, but she is the most precious part of my world.