When I was in high school I found a drawer of old pictures in my parents’ formal living room and in that drawer was a box full of pictures from my mom’s high school years. I looked through every one – Mom and her prom date, Mom as a cheerleader at the top of the pyramid, Mom’s senior pictures, and eventually Mom with dad on her parent’s couch. I laughed at all the polyester and the business suit she wore on a couple dates but I mostly focused on a picture of Mom in her cheer uniform. Naturally, we had just had quite the disagreement the day before about the length of my cheerleading skirt. Some of the girls were sporting very short skirts and because I was an insecure 16 yr. old I thought I needed one too…that’s another post for another day. I didn’t understand why she didn’t get it – she had been a cheerleader after all! I believe I ended the conversation with something along the lines of, “you’re ruining my life and you don’t understand anything.”
Fast forward a few years and here I am, looking at the same picture of my mom in her cheer uniform. No longer am I thinking up ways to convince her that it’s okay if I wear one; instead, I’m thinking how beautiful she was then and how not much has changed…definitely not the hair or the sparkle in her eyes! One of the neatest things about growing up is getting to know your parents as real people and becoming friends. I am so thankful for a mother that loves God more than anything, adores my dad today more than the day she married him, and loves others more than herself. She’s the one who taught me how to throw a good party – whether it’s for two or two hundred! – and encourages me to “suck it up” and “remember whose you are” on a daily basis. She held my hand when I broke my ankle, gave me confidence when I had lost mine, and cried in the church pew on my wedding day. Did I mention she orchestrated every detail of my wedding day? That’s the kind of superwoman my mom is.
Mom, thanks for putting up with 16 year old me and loving like crazy despite my not-so-stellar attitude. Aren’t you glad I grew up and realized I don’t know everything? You’re the kind of wise I hope to become, and I’m so blessed to have you in my life. Lord willing, I hope to be half the mother you are one day and laugh as my daughter looks through pictures of me from my high school days.
Everybody, if you’re blessed enough to still have your mom here on this earth, call her. Don’t text. Don’t email. Call. Go a little Danny Tanner a la Full House and tell her how much you appreciate her for so many reasons. And maybe, like me, apologize for how you were at 16. xo