I know it’s a little late to post about Mother’s Day.
But is it ever too late to talk about your mother?
(The answer is no.)
Plus, since my mother’s birthday is on Friday, I feel like I can celebrate my mother all week long.
Let me first start by apologizing to her. She had no idea I swiped these photos. But they were floating around the last time we were at my grandparent’s house, and I just couldn’t resist.
Of course, I’m the little guy on the right. I had a lot of hair then. Now, it’s falling out. It also looks like I was missing a tooth. That grew in. Funny how things work.
But that’s not the point of this post.
The point is how great my mother is.
Sure, everyone thinks their mother is great.
And those moms probably are.
But to me, there’s no one like my mother.
I was fortunate to have a pretty good childhood. I had friends. I wasn’t picked on (too much) and generally, my childhood was kind of awesome.
And I know that had a lot to do with my mother.
We moved around a few times when I was young before we settled in Newell, Iowa. I was fortunate enough to have friends along the way, but it wasn’t always easy. There were difficulties. And my mother was always there being supportive.
But the biggest thing I can say about my mother is the way she takes care of people, especially me.
She is always there to do whatever necessary. Sometimes that was a ride to one of my various activities. Sometimes that was a quick meal as I was gallivanting all over the country.
When I was a young tyke, my favorite after-school snack was chocolate chip cookies and Cheetos. I know, what a strange combination. But every day for a few years, she was waiting with cookies and Cheetos. I couldn’t even guess how many chocolate chip cookies she’s baked over the years. Probably 10,000.
Shoot, even a couple weeks ago she sewed a button back on a pair of pants for me. I’m 27 years old and my mother still sews for me.
If that’s not a definition of a great woman, I don’t know what is.
As I was growing up, I was involved in everything. I was in speech. I played sports. I was in the band.
And my mother was at every contest, game and concert.
I have no idea how many baseball games she’s seen over the years, but I’m sure it’s a ridiculous number.
When I played basketball my senior year — even though I didn’t get a lot of minutes — her and my dad were always in the stands, watching the entire game. They were always supportive, driving all over the state to watch me sit on the bench.
Of course each of those contests created laundry. And more laundry. I don’t know how many uniforms she’s washed. Or how many times she’s washed clothes because I needed my “lucky” socks for a baseball game. Or the right pair of shorts to wear to practice. But each time, my mother took care of it. She took care of me.
As I’ve grown and moved out of the house, our relationship has changed. I don’t get home as much as I should or talk with her as much as I want, but she’s still always there for me, taking care of me. Even if I don’t want to hear it, she’s still giving me advice. Sometimes it’s as simple as different items I could make for meals. Or the best way to iron a shirt.
But as I continue to celebrate Mother’s Week, I’m thankful for my mother. She’s the best one I’ve ever had.
Shoot, she’s the best mother in the world.