My 12-year-old gave me a beautiful belated Mother’s Day present yesterday, posting this note to her blog…
I want to start off by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry we didn’t do much for you yesterday (Mother’s Day)…. We really were going to! But we all were too tired Saturday night because your eldest daughter came home from college at 11:30 pm. (The college “trouble maker,” even though we all know she’s a good girl, because you raised her well.)
I’m also sorry I’m such a poohie daughter, I guess you just slacked a bit raising me… since I am your fourth.
Thank you for for being the awesomist (and weirdest) mom that could ever give birth to me, even though sometimes I wish you didn’t use it against us (me and your other weird daughters) so much!
No matter how much you and I fight, I still love you, just like we’re siblings. (And since we’re both the youngest, we both are expert whiners.)
And no matter how much you say you’re a terrible mom–you’re not. Since you might not believe me, let me say it a couple more times: you’re not, you’re not, you’re not! You are actually completely opposite; you’re the BEST mom anyone could ask for.
All those other kids in the world are missing out because you. are. the. best. I know, I know, you embarrass us a lot but… I love ya. I mean if we didn’t have you, who would we laugh at?
I know this isn’t my best note to you saying how much I love you, but it’s already a day late–what do you expect?!
Thank you for not giving up on me, because we all know I’m a handful. And I don’t know how many other moms in the world would be able to handle me 🙂. You’re amazing. Thanks–again.
Someday you too will be a mom. And your Mother’s Days will be filled with scribbles on papers (like that overloaded file in the back of my office cabinet), macaroni necklaces (yours you made still hangs in my jewelry box), and sticky kisses (those I kept only in my memories). As invaluable as those sweet mementos are, the joy they brought you might possibly be surpassed by the love that floods your soul when your tween daughter publicly and sincerely voices her love to you.
She’ll probably tell you you’re weird (because I’m certain you too will do goofy celebratory jigs on your kitchen floor for silly reasons, croon songs from your teen years when you find a good station on a back-road drive, and get excited when you discover a new insect or amphibian in your yard), but you’ll just smile.
When she shows you pictures of herself and you at the same young age, you’ll feel a chill run from your earlobes to your big toe realizing, for possibly the first time, how much of you has been passed on to her, and hoping you’ve done well by her.
You’ll smile when she complains about your reliance on that one phrase–“well I DID give birth to you”–to entice her into proper action. Because then you will understand that moms really just bring up that topic because that moment–giving birth–was truly their proudest accomplishment ever, producing a masterpiece that leaves them in awe on a daily basis for the rest of their lives.
You’ll laugh when your own daughter admits she’s a “handful,” knowing there’s nothing you’d rather fill your hands, and days, with than precious time with this child who is all too quickly becoming an amazing young woman.