To my mother.

She raised me up in love.

When life was hard and Dad worked all night, she kept us quiet so he could sleep 

and she loved us well.

She was at every game,

every recital,

every concert.

All of our friends knew, and they knew her.

They came to her with their proud announcements, 

because their moms were not there.

So my mama became mama to many.

Picnics and parks beckoned and she took us happily.

She listened to my adolescent chatter patiently and

made me feel like I was brilliant.

She was always my cheerleader, and still is.

Dishes washed and dried over conversation, as we looked out that little kitchen window, 

laundry folded in front of As The World Turns.

Green beans snapped and pecans cracked and we talked.

We talked.

My clarinet squawked and Duran Duran played way too loud,

yet she was patient and tolerant of the noise.

Somehow she taught me to put on makeup, though she rarely wore any herself.

And I thought she was beautiful

In my mind, I guess she will always be thirty-five.

Time is not kind and her knees hurt.  

Her back bends.

But her smile, it never changes.

She laughs from deep in her belly and it is contagious.

She radiates care and compassion and it draws others to her.

No matter where she goes, whether at home or at work, 

she is mama to many.

But first she was my mama, and I am so thankful.

So much of who I am and how I mother is because of her.

So much of my ability to love my children, 

to appreciate these days and not wish them away,

is because of her.

Mom, may you know how precious you are to Jesus
May you realize that, somehow, He loves you even more than we do.
My brother and I, we are so blessed.
Your grandchildren look at you with happy eyes because you
are all that a Nana should be...soft, loving, and always ready to hug.
You are appreciated, and you are loved.
Happy Mothers Day from your grateful daughter.