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Friday, May 11, 2007

My Mumsy.

Just a guess, but I probably don't have to remind many of you that Sunday is Mother's Day.

It's all over the newspapers. Ads of what to buy mom for her special day.

Radio ads about where to take her for brunch.

Pictures of teary eyed mom's with their new jewelry.

I had hoped to write something about being a stepmom this Mothers Day. Writing a letter of sorts as a stepmom to the kids mom. To be published on or around the big day.

I couldn't do it.

Not because I don't have tons of admiration and love for the kids mom. Not because I don't have anything to say. I've got pages and pages.

Not because I wouldn't have loved the opportunity.

But because this mother's day there is something else for me to think about.

To write about.

To reflect on.

Something so close, so deep, so intricate and close to my heart.

My own mother.

My mom.

My mumsy. I don't remember how that nickname ever came about but I have unique names for both my mom and dad, that only I call them.

This Mother's Day I'm reflecting on my mother.

My mother who went through an awful pregnancy and delivery to have me.

My mother who played Chinese Checkers with me while nursing my little sister.

My mother who made cookies with me time and time again. And always let me lick the spoons.

My mother who helped with the class parties and at track and field day.

My mother who when I couldn't sleep at night would sit on my bed and rub my back and tell me to think about relaxing all the way from my toes to the tip of my head.

My mother who 'made' me save half of my paychecks all through high school so I would learn how to save.

My mother who, when I got in a car accident one month after getting my drivers license, didn't get mad at me, instead she told me to go to the store for her. That way I wouldn't be afraid to drive again.

My mother who, when I threw a basketball at some kids head for being a jerk to other kids in my gym class, got me out of trouble.

My mother who taught me how to interact with both the common and the elite. The homeless and the mayor.

My mother who when I was heartbroken because of a boy sent me to get my hair done. She said it'd make me feel better, and it did.

My mother who emailed me just about every day when I was away at college. Sent packages and letters just about every week. Oh how I took those for granted. But I saved each and every one.

My mother who never made me feel bad for transferring colleges or told me, I told you so.

My mother who, when I called from Wisconsin to tell her I'd gotten in an accident with a semi, drove through a snowstorm in the middle of the night to pick up my friend, Hayley and I.

My mother who loves J and T and M, and loves them as if they had always been part of the family.

My mother who, when my husband called to announce the birth of H immediately asked how I was. Called every couple hours and came over every day. Not just to see the new bundle of joy but to check on me.

My mother who has never once questioned or made me feel bad about my career (or lack of career) and has always encouraged me to do what makes me happy.

My mother who strolls through Macy's with me pointing out cute outfits and good prices.

My mother who knows when to listen to my rants and when to give me her advice.

My mother who has always told me, and my sisters and each of her grandchildren that she will 'love us forever, like us for always and as long as we're living her babies we'll be.'

My fifty year old beautiful, vibrant, loving, kind, wise mother.

My mother has cancer.

Cancer. I don't even like that word. What an ugly, icky word.

My mother is sick.

And now instead of me leaning on her, she needs to lean on me.

And it's ok. It's going to be ok.

Like my dad said, it has to be.

I will probably not say much here about my mother and this battle. It is too raw and too real. It is something I find myself drawing inward rather than my typical external reach.

But I do want all to know that this Mother's Day, she is all that matters.

My mumsy.

I'll love you forever.
I'll like you for always.
As long as I'm living, my mumsy you'll be.