As I sit here reflecting in the early hours of another Mother’s Day that seemingly crept out of nowhere, I can’t help but smile. Goofing around above me tonight were two healthy and happy girls who have given me great purpose and direction in a world I once felt lost in. I like to think of myself as the Board of Commissioners for Chief and Deputy Scammer. I oversee the “big picture” while clearly they are in charge of the day to day operations around here. Oh yes indeed. “The Chief is confirming a working scam-fest and calling in reinforcements!”. I don’t think I would or could have it any other way.
Thinking back, for the life of me I can not recall celebrating Mother’s Day as a child. I’m sure that we must have, yet the memories escape me. Way too many years were spent as I rebelled against my Mom. If someone were ever able to develop and market “hindsight”, they would be a millionaire for sure. With the purchase of hindsight, it would have been decades sooner that I had realized my Mom’s strength and true character. It’s idealistic to think of the years I never would have wasted, but the truth is that I did. Waste them.
While independence, in and of itself is admirable, it’s not always the gift that it’s cracked up to be. Far too early on in my childhood, I determined that I was independent. Right, wrong, or indifferent, that was the way I was going to be and no one short of God himself was going to sway me. I bucked the system just to buck the system. If you’d said black, I’d have said white. And so it goes.
This independence carried with it a HUGE sidecar of stubborn, which was a direct delivery, lock, stock and barrel from my Meston genes. Thanks genetics! You’ve given me the gifts that keep on giving. Just ask my strong-willed and liberated six year old who thinks the world is her oyster and clothing is optional!
One of my deepest regrets is that I did not recognize sooner in life the fortitude within my own Mom. While I definitely credit Meston genetics for much of my personality, it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve realized I’m quietly becoming Jane. Or at least part Jane. Decades ago, that likely would have scared me, while today it gives me a quiet comfort.
I tend to be prone to writing about my Dad and his strength. I think about his staunch character and his admirable principles, while I’ve ashamedly failed to show my Mom the same recognition. Something that resonates in my head is my Mom once telling me “I had always hoped I would be close with my daughters”.
Sadly, she was telling me this because we weren’t. It was with great sadness in her eyes that these words were uttered. and though they may not have affected me then, they certainly have followed me, and most definitely impact my life now.
As I’ve grown as a person, I’ve begun to evaluate the “bigger picture” so to speak. Many things I once blamed my Mom for, were actually acts of courage and bravery. Looking back as an adult, the places where I once viewed my Mom in the background are now hazy, and I’ve begun to see her as a backbone. A force that held us together where a weaker force would have failed. A kick-a$$ cancer survivor who didn’t take no for an answer. A strength when we were weak.
It seems as though with each year that passes, I feel closer to my Mom. I notice that we seem to understand each other just a little bit better. While our personalities could not be any further opposed, it’s seemingly begun to work for us. She is my voice of reason and I tend to be the dose of humor.
Today and everyday, I’d like to thank my Mom for all she’s done for me, and for all her support behind the scenes. I’ve had my moments of regret, as most children do, yet I hope she knows that I strive every day to make her proud of the person I’m becoming, and of the Mom that I am. I realize now that I never would have made it this far without her.
Thank you Mom! I love you more than I could ever express!
