My mom is the crown jewel of mothers. I know this now, now that I am thirty-five and I’ve seen the ugly side of motherhood and I look back and I realized how much restraint it must have taken her not to beat me on the daily. My mom.
I can’t imagine the flack they took for being young newlyweds, straight outta college, stepping up and adopting a sickly looking crack-toddler before they even vaguely thought about having biological children–but they did.
And loving me through all my mistakes and my rebellions and wanderings? Never just telling me what I wanted to hear, but always encouraging me and supporting me; it was because of my sweet parents that I can even remotely grasp the concept of a God who is my father in heaven that loves me; they have done more for the pro-life cause than any sign-holding sidewalk protestor will ever think to accomplish.
My mom had three girls and one Air Force husband and one tv and one VCR and one car and no computer and no cell phone; and no close-by family and friends scattered across the country. It had to have been lonely. It had to have been rough. It had to have been hectic. She had to have lost her mind.
But if she did, she did so with grace and restraint and she was fiercely loving and she continues to be.
And I love her.