My Mother’s Son

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Long before I dedicated myself to any singular passion, before I became enthralled with travel and seeing new locations, even before I rolled dice in my first D&D game, I was my mother’s son.

When my brother and I were younger, I spent countless hours underfoot and near skirt learning what I could from her. She was and in many ways continues to be a large influence in my mid-thirties. What she feels and thinks matters to me, and while she has no desire to control my freedom any longer, she never bites her lip when it comes to what’s on her mind. I’d like to think that I have in some way lived up to what she hoped I would become. This is the dream of any parent, it is my dream for my children. In her heart I think all she wants for me is to be happy, safe, and doing what I love.

In that respect she has been a massive success.

My mother taught me what it meant to be tough. She did this in the most feminine way possible, by persevering through the personal trials and tribulations of my biological father Jim leaving our family. There was no hint or discussion I can recall where she told me how hard it was at the time. She never let on her pain through the long nights, the months we spent at my grandparents house because we were forced to move. She worked as hard as she possibly could to provide for her two children, to shepherd them through that difficult time, and tell us that she loved us. I never doubted it then, and she has never given me a reason to doubt it since.

When I think about the path her life has taken, all the trials and tribulations she’s fought her was through, it’s nothing short of inspiring. She worked long hours in an environment that was male dominated for years, becoming an indispensable part of the company. She lived through the death of her mother, and the subsequent responsibility of helping her father figure out how to pay bills. My mother did all of this while dealing with two boys who rarely saw eye to eye, not to mention one of those boys kept her very busy by getting into trouble on a regular basis (guess who?)

I’ll see my mother today, and she’ll get to spend time with her grandchildren which she will appreciate. She wasn’t a perfect mother, not that one exists, but she never needed to be. She was human, and therefore fallible, but she owned up to her mistakes and taught me how to say sorry. My mother encouraged me to read at a young age, unknowingly becoming a vehicle which inspired me to write. She wanted to be a journalist, but put her family before her desires and went to work to support us. In some way everything I have written, and everything I will write is dedicated to her.

This Mother’s Day I don’t know where your relationship sits with your mother, but if you have the opportunity to tell her what she’s meant to you, I implore you to do it. Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, so take time today to remind her you respect the shaky nature of life, because for better or worse, you wouldn’t be here without your mom.

No matter where my life goes, or how successful I may become, I will always be my mother’s son.