I've had a day of connections, as it were. I finally had a chance to call and talk to my mom. Really talk, complain, laugh, and listen. She's great, my mom. I really do believe that I have been blessed to have her in my life.
She's not a complicated person. She doesn't stand for falseness or seek those who care for material things.
She reads. I mean reads. If there is a topic that slightly interests her, she finds a book, or a story, or an article and reads. This is a woman who hasn't stopped learning.
My mom has always been very good at letting me and my sisters make our own choices and our own mistakes. I realize now just how hard that must have been for her. I am who I am because she allowed me to be. (And, probably, because she convinced my father to let me be!)
She once said to me, "I am not your friend. I am your mother." I didn't get that at the time. But now, that is exactly how I want to be with my kids.
My mother loves me, there is no question, and she supports me and listens to me, but that doesn't mean she always likes what I'm doing or who I'm hanging out with. She's not my friend. She's more than that. She is my mother.
The beautiful irony in our relationship is that I married a version of my father. (And, not only me, but one of my sisters as well!) Their relationship, married now for almost 45 years, has been the best example of how to love and be a part of something so amazing without losing sight of who you are and who you want to be. My parents are normal, everyday people. That is what is so extraordinary.
It's getting late. Hubster has a company dinner and I'm having red wine with bread and cheese for my dinner. I'm glad for the alone time. I'm glad for the time to think about my mom, my dad.
I hope I take the good lessons they've given me and pass them on. I hope I continue to learn as she has.