My Mother; My Hero

I remember being younger and staring at my mom as she gets ready in our bathroom. It’s one of several houses we lived in, imparting memories in multiple different places. Looking back on it now, I came to know a great many people from all the moves, no matter how challenging they were at the time. She’s plucking her eyebrows. We share the same skinny but almost bushy eyebrow – she puckers her lips as she searches for the right light. (She’s the one that taught me the only good light to pluck in is natural light – which is why in every vehicle of hers there’s a pair of tweezers, and now also mine.) I stare in rapt attention, hoping that one day I’ll come to be like her, strong and assured, funny with an edge. Despite all that life hurled at her, she managed. For years it was my mom and I. We were a team. She was the person I ran to when I lost my virginity, smoked pot for the first time, and accidentally went on an Alice in Wonderland trip with magic mushrooms. Whoops. She was there to listen as I recalled all the missteps and pit falls, her home was the house I ran to when everything seemed to hard, and too out-of-place. She was – and still is – a haven that I am lucky enough to have had throughout my life – one that I know many don’t have with their mother.

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I moved away, many times. I told everyone I knew about my mom. “You’d love her,” I would laugh mid-literally everything, “she’s just like me, but louder! Can you imagine?!” I came home, many times. After flunking out of university, after ditching awful roommates, after escaping a garbage relationship. I’m so glad to be home. I would repeat to myself. Over and over again. And over the years, the idea of that home has changed, and different people have come and gone, but one thing remains unchanged: my mom. My rock star, genuine, unwaveringly questioning, sometimes maddeningly frustrating, mom. My mom that I introduce to everyone as Jody, my person, my actual best friend. Twenty-six years I’ve been moving through this life with you and I don’t know how I got so damn lucky to get a mother like you. Thank you for letting me choose you, and thank you for being my landing pad, my sounding board, and my endless source of inspiration. One day I hope to be just like you.

2 thoughts on “My Mother; My Hero

  1. Oh my dear meg. You will never know how your words are so much more than words or thoughts. You’ll never know the depth those words hold. You are a blessing amongst the blessed. You, my dear friend, have given something very special to many people. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

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