A Mother's Love

I feel as though much time has passed since we last spoke. In reality, it has only been a week, but a very noteworthy week. Since I am without wireless due to a miscommunication with Comcast and am staunchly opposed to cheating the office time clock, I have been unable to write - much to my dismay. Sitting barefoot at my desk, listening to a Pandora station that is perfect besides the occasional overplayed DMB song, I believe this is the time to post a personal tribute.

Two weeks ago was Mother's Day. Although I would love to purchase my mother an inspired gift every opportunity that approaches, I find it stressful to choose a gift three times a year. Of course I appreciate all she has done for me, but to display that affection on Mother's Day, her birthday, and Christmas requires much creativity. I attribute this occasional lack of effort to my first grade teacher, who thought it was a good idea to mention our mother's negative qualities in honor of Mother's Day. Needless to say, my mother was sent into a tizzy of tears, and I have subconsciously questioned every gift thereafter. This year, I went home for the weekend and was more than happy to grant her request of cleaning my room in lieu of a present.

Early last week, Mom called and told me she wanted to help as I was moving across town. Of course there was no obligation to do so, but she assured me she wanted to make the eight hour drive. I was relieved once I began packing; as is my tendency, I had seriously underestimated my belongings.

Friday afternoon Mom texted me, telling me she was stuck in traffic but near Charlottesville. Just as well because I had arrived at work later than intended. I called when I left and was surprised to hear her suggest we begin the moving process immediately. Spurred by her motivated spirit, I agreed, and by seven o'clock, we were done for the evening.

We ate a lovely dinner, and upon returning to my apartment, realized I had no toilet paper. This required a trip to Target, which began with the necessity of toilet paper, and ended with two carts of necessities for the kitchen, bathroom, cleaning cupboard (my mother may be naively optimistic that I am as dedicated to cleaning as she). Mom was coughing the entire time, but this did not hinder her drive to equip me with the essentials of life on my own. It was ten o'clock by the time we again returned to my house and began unloading the car. My first trip into the house, I spotted a bug creeping along the floor. Disgusted, I decided that closing the door nearly all the way was the perfect way to inhibit such creatures from entering. In retrospect, this was probably not the most sensible solution, since the screen door was adequate protection from outdoor pests. However, it seemed logical at the time.

I am not sure if it was the wind, my unknown strength, or the hand of God, but moments after I had left the apartment to bring in another load of goodies, Mom asked for the keys to unlock the door. There is a simple solution; unfortunately, this solution lay inside the locked apartment with the keys to my car and the other house. We looked at each other and reacted in the most appropriate way - laughter. Then we wondered how I was going to get into the apartment when my roommate was four hours away. Or how I was going to let the cable guy in the following day. Or what I was going to wear for the next two days (although, obviously, this was the least of my concerns).

As Providence would have it, after an hour of phone calls and a trip to the police station, we reached a locksmith. He unlocked my door at midnight, and I decided if this online advertising career does not pan out, I am becoming a locksmith, as he was paid eighty dollars for no more than thirty seconds of labor. Mother and I said good night and both slept very heavily.

The rest of the weekend Mom spent buzzing around, doing everything from organizing my kitchen to researching coffee tables. She befriended my new neighbor and learned more about him in twenty minutes then I would have in days. She even flashed a smile and asked for him to help move boxes. She took my old roommates and I for a delicious dinner to thank them for welcoming me to a new city.

As I encounter others and hear of experiences with parents, I become increasingly grateful for my mother's love and loyalty to her husband and family. I consider myself blessed that I cannot remember a negative word my mother has spoken about my father. (My dad may insist there are none to be spoken, but I am quite sure there are a few.)

While I have no children of my own, I can imagine being a mother is a thankless task at times. Raising five extremely different children must be more than trying. Yet, my mother rarely shows fatigue or weakness. Through tennis matches, heartbreaks, life decisions, petty problems, she has been supportive. More than that, she has felt the joy, sorrow and frustration with me. I have always respected her for many reasons, but as I get older, the extent of her grace and love continues to astound me. It was most apparent this weekend. I hope that I can someday care about others as strongly as she cares about those she barely knows, honor my husband as she honors my dad, and love one child with the strength and selflessness she has shown to each of hers - so much so that I do not call my daughter an idiot when she locks us out of her apartment.

I am quite sure I will never be able to repay her for the sacrifices she makes on a daily basis, but perhaps a proper Mother's Day present is a start. Right now, though, I have to start planning for her birthday present.