Ah Mother’s Day. A Hallmark holiday. A made-up tradition. One that is celebrated around the world because of something we conjured up in America.
But, regardless of it being a made-up holiday, it’s an important one. It’s a day for us to reflect on the people who gave us life, both biologically and raising us.
Some of us were adopted. Some of us were raised by a single parent. Some of us were raised by homosexual couples. Some of us were raised “traditionally.” Some of us were raised in split homes.
No matter who raised us, today is the day to celebrate our parents.
My parents were 23 when they had me. They were babies themselves. I remember being 23 and I had no business having a baby back then, let alone five of them by age 30.
Yes, my parents had five kids under the age of seven (I also have a younger half-brother who belongs to my dad).
Can you imagine? Five kids under the age of seven.
We didn’t have any money. We had one car that wasn’t big enough to fit all of us in it. We had one tiny black and white TV, which meant we didn’t really watch it. My mom made our clothes. She cooked every meal. She taught us how to be creative. She took us on “dates” to the fabric store or the grocery store because those were the only things we could afford to buy.
When I was in eighth grade, I wanted a pair of Guess jeans so badly I could taste it. Rather than go out and buy them for me (mostly because they could’t afford them), my mom taught me how to work and save to buy them.
When I made the cheerleading squad, I had to use my babysitting money to pay for my uniform.
I hated her for that. I hated that all of my friends had designer clothes and could go on school trips and do fun things and I could do it only if I paid for it myself. I hated that people would talk about movies or TV shows and I would feel left out. I hated that I couldn’t date or get my ears pierced or wear make-up until I was 16. I hated that I was always grounded (for life, she once told me) when my brothers got away with murder.
It just wasn’t fair.
And then I became an adult and I realized everything my mom taught me. Heck, still teaches me.
She taught me that anything worth having is hard work. She taught me you don’t have to wear a ton of make-up to be beautiful. She taught me how to shop consignment stores for high-end fashion (though I’m not nearly as patient as she is at that). She taught me that a good book is far better than any movie or TV show. She taught me that less is more. She taught me who I am and what I stand for.
She’s far more creative than I am. She’s far more patient. She’s a much kinder and gentler person than I can ever imagine being.
She is my best friend and my confidant.
I love you Skirsty, mumsie, mumsily, momma, mama mia! Happy Mother’s Day!