Mom

For the first time in my life I was tenderizing meat. I still do not know why you tenderize meat, or what it does to the taste and texture of the meat, but my recipe called for tenderized meat, so i was a 'poundin! As it was my first time to do this, I had a complete lack of meat beating tools. So I just slapped at it with my hands. But, even without the hammer thingy like my mom had, it still brought back memories. Whenever I heard that sound in my momma's kitchen, I knew we were having country fried steak, complete with pan gravy, for dinner. I can still see her in my head with that wooden mallet pounding away. Unfortunately, at the time I'm sure I hated it. Now, the thought of it makes my mouth water. Funny isn't it? I never took the time to watch my mom cook, or cook with her. Sure when I was little, I helped make the chocolate chip cookies, and when I was older and married, I tried to boss her around her kitchen. She graciously listened as I "taught" her to cook. Then she went about making what she wanted, how she wanted to. Which always turned out better than anything I could have whipped up. She's the reason that people love southern cooking. She has a zillion hand written old recipes in a binder, but she rarely needs them. My mom just knows how to make everything!

I remember one time my brothers and I were teasing my mom about her outfit (as if we had any fashion sense ourselves). It finally got to her and she blurted out that she chose to wear her "ugly, old clothes" so that we could have the nice new ones we sported. Ouch! I knew it was true. And like so many other things, it was not until I became a mother that I could fully appreciate my mom. She gave us the world and served us hand and foot. Do you know that I never made my lunch for school? Heck, my mom still makes my brother's sandwich when he drops by for lunch. She loves, and she gives. Now that I am a mother that is what I want to do. Somehow, its not the same. I can't seem to give as selflessly, or love as much, or not expect anything in return the way she did. When I serve, for some reason, deep down, I'm waiting for the trumpets to sound and the husband and kids to stand at attention and sing my praises. Maybe she wanted that, too. I sure do wish I had sang her praises more. Is it too late? She is out of the harried, overwhelmed young mom with three crazy, ungrateful kids stage. But maybe, just maybe it's not too late!

She's the reason that I love vegetables, know Jesus, long for a surprise yet don't know what I want to be surprised with, and double the meat, cheese, and chocolate in any given recipe. She's better than anyone I know, and my goal is to be as much like her as possible. She is selfless beyond words, always thinking of others. But the neat thing about her, is that when she thinks of others, she takes the time to do something about it- give them a call, drop them a note, or take them some "goodies". She made my childhood wonderful, and happy, and full of lazy days at White Water. She never missed a practice, a speech, or a game. When we're together we laugh so hard we cry. I cannot even get started about how fun it has been (not to mention life saving) watching her be Gamma! What grandma do you know would do this? She is cherished by everyone who knows her- especially my children. She calls regularly, and insists on talking to the kids. She always plays along when, for the 100th time, Noah trys to imitate my voice and says "this is mommy". She is attentive to others and intentional about loving them.

So, today, Mom, on your birthday, I want to make sure you know just how dearly and deeply I love you. My cup runs over (my eyes, too) when I think of you. You're the best and I could not be more blessed to have you! Thank you for being so great, and giving, and fun. You're special, really really special!! You're my best friend, and I miss you more than words can express.

I'm crying now, so I have to stop. I LOVE YOU, MOM. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!