Friday, November 2, 2007

My Mom

I was listening to a podcast today and an they played an old lullaby from my childhood. I had forgotten about it until today. I know it was part of some mormon musical that I only saw once, but that's not where I learned it. My mother used to sing it to me at night after she tucked me in. There I was, working away at my computer on a spreadsheet for a meeting when all of a sudden I was transported back to my 6 year old self in my dark bedroom, with my mother sitting on my bed rubbing my legs and singing to me. And at the same time, I was sitting at my desk, tearing up like that 6 year old. It was powerful, and emotional, and now I miss my Mom.
It got me thinking about my parents, and how much they mean to me. They're two of the most important parts of who I am. They shaped me.

A couple of months ago, my family was all together, and we were talking about our earliest memories. And for some unknown reason, mine are all memories of times when I was angry at my parents, or they were frustrated with me. And I think I may have given my mom a complex about that. She's worried that she scarred my early childhood. But the truth is that those memories of anger and frustration are just the ones that I can easily recall. I'm sure I have many more memories of happy times when my parents were teaching, caring for, and loving me. The very fact that I didn't remember that lullaby until today only makes that memory, and today's memory, that much more powerful.

I love my Mom. She's amazing. She's one of the most loving, charitable individuals I've ever met. I don't know what my life would be like without her. And it wouldn't matter how many words I use to describe how wonderful she is. Because I could never get close enough to do her justice. And she'll probably read this someday and think I'm just blowing smoke. Mom. Here it is on the internet for the whole world to see: I love you. You're the reason I am who I am. I couldn't have done the things I've done, seen the things I've seen, or gone to all of the places I've been if you hadn't been there, supporting me through all of it. I'm sad that we live far apart from each other, but someday, we'll live in the same town. We'll eat lunch together and go grocery shopping and stop at the post office. I couldn't look forward to doing those kinds of things with you if I didn't have happy, if subliminal, memories of the love you showed to me as child. Thank you for singing me to bed every night.

...

...And now I'm very homesick...