My Momma

I just came across a sad blog post from someone whose husband attacked her in a drunken rage one night. She ended up calling the police and getting an Emergency Order of Protection for her and her child. The really sad part for me was finding out that neither her parents nor her sister have bothered to come to her aid, not even to aid her emotionally. Her sister's husband is a good friend of her own husband's so he's gone to stay with them while the EOP is in effect. For Thanksgiving, her own sister turned her away so that things wouldn't get uncomfortable (I'm assuming). Meanwhile, her parents were on vacation and could apparently not be bothered to return to be with her. This was a woman who'd been choked and beaten by her own husband!!

Wow. I have always known that I'm fortunate to have the family I have, but I'm still surprised at how lousy some families can treat one of their own.

About 8 years ago, I had a miscarriage. It was my first pregnancy, and it was neither planned nor welcomed by either my husband or me. It was a shock, then, to realize how shocked I was when I lost it. In retrospect, I think I must've felt guilty because I had not wanted the baby. Whatever the reason, within hours of hearing about my miscarriage, my mom was on her way to be with me (we lived about 6 hours apart at the time). What I remember most clearly, even now, about the day she arrived was how she held me in her arms and stroked my hair while I cried. In fact, I teared up again thinking about it just now. (Can I still claim rampant hormones if I'm 3 months post-partum...or am I just a big wuss?)

A couple of years ago, we'd already moved to Denver, and I hurt my back. I could barely walk and couldn't lift a thing including my 2 y/o son, but I was managing so-so...for the first week or so. One fine day, I had a bad reaction to a muscle relaxant and ended up calling my mom in tears. I swear, she was on the next plane to Denver...or at least it seemed that way to me. She and my Dad own a couple of restaurants (as you know), but she ignored her work for a whole week just to come and take care of me (& Pumpkin, I guess). She even gathered up her courage and drove me to the doctor's office one day...on icy roads no less! (You should know that my mom lives in a very hot climate where it NEVER...EVER snows.)

You'd be even more amazed if you knew what kind of upbringing my mom had, and the odds she had to beat to even get this far. (Let's just say her parents could have been a little kinder.)

Sure, my life growing up wasn't all roses, and my mom wasn't perfect...and still isn't, but she's always been there for me when it's mattered most...and that's mattered most of all. Today, I look to my mom as a shining example of the kind of mother I try to be for my own child(ren). When Pumpkin is hurt or sad, I think back to when I was little to what my mom did to make me feel better, and I try to emulate that...like the way she stroked my arm or caressed my face.

Fortunately, my mom knows how much I love her because I often tell her. Even QT understands how I feel because I often tell him that when I "grow up," I want to be just like my mom, hehe. I'll gladly say it again anyway:

I love you, Mom. You're the best!