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HOME is where the MOM is


My mom and I... we are alike yet very different, probably in equal amounts. In any case, we have a special bond; she raised me, installed my buttons and sure knows how to push them.  She's a mystery, like I'm admiring a dangerous cougar in one moment and then running for dear life in the next. At this moment, it is my greatest hope to be as effective of a parent as she has been.

They are supposed to love you, but more importantly, they are supposed to raise you, teach you and leave you ready to leave the nest armed with all the important life skills rendering you capable to survive and thrive. CHECK!

This morning we were driving together; it was a chilly, fall morning before the sun even got out of bed. Even the sun has more downtime than her. "I'm just so tired all the time," she said. We were in conflict about what temperature the car should be, I called her a post-menopausal monster, we both giggled.

My poor mother, her words were still hanging in that space with us. How do we get here, I wondered? How did we get to the place where everything we do is stuff we have to do; where a holiday or birthday or glass of wine has… ever so subtly …gone from a bookend to barely at all?
I guess as humans, we can contemplate our own demise and as we get older, we have this sensation that prepares us for that day (well the possibility of it...) where we can’t work, can’t walk, can’t pay our bills. I know with each passing year in my life, I’ve contemplated beefing up my sources of false protection, "huummmm…. maybe I should get more insurance, a safer car, a chubbier savings account", and I don't have kids yet.  I still worry about getting older, just in proportion to me.
I get it, I understand, Mom -- there will be a day when my kids and grandkids overwhelm me, too. The simple idea that I have helped create something that I will always feel responsible for, is over whelming. I suppose I too will have an innate awareness that I have to protect them always (far past the point when they are doing it for themselves). I'm protecting myself, mom.


Right now the idea of having kids, freaks me right out. There is no way that could be real, is that going to happen to me? How do mom's do it? 
You get older and you have to accept more responsibility, that’s ok with me, but then you also agree to create more responsibility? I officially have the next eleven months to fully digest that concept before I get married—note to self—add it to the list.

Mom, I’m sorry I introduced you to facebook and the iphone (mother’s day 2010) and any number of other things that suck at your very precious time – the time when you aren’t working or worrying about your kids and now grandkids. I am sorry for borrowing your time, for filling it up with trying to learn yoga poses because I think you should. I’m sorry I put that kind of pressure on you. I'm sorry I still don’t understand ... I certainly hope that I will understand; the day I sign up for parenthood.

Can I just say, you are such a good Mom!

Just know that I’ll do my ultimate best to live responsibly and safely so that you can spend a little more time on you and a little less time worrying, I also understand it isn’t your fault, it’s just part of being someone’s mom. I love you xx

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