Mother Warriors

If you asked anyone, they would tell you that I am the spitting image of my mother. I have her spunk, busy-body lifestyle, anxious tendencies, and need for societal interaction. I also carry her tiny frame and resemble her short blonde hair. It is kind of scary at times...especially for my siblings when they say "Ok Mom" when speaking to me.

I must admit that while I love my mother unconditionally, I am not always so outward in expressing that love. Sometimes she drives me crazy...well a lot of times. Ryan insists that this is because she tells me the raw, honest truth (I beg to differ on this point to deflect a personality flaw on my end mainly). I like to think it is because we are both alpha female hear me roar and neither of us enjoys being put in our place especially by one another.

And while we have had our differences, she is still the first person that I think of when something goes wrong or when I feel saddened or when I have accomplished something major or when I am sick to my tummy. I suspect that I will be 83 years old and will still cry out for my mommy.

A few years ago, my mom and I attended the Oprah show when I was living in Chicago. The show hotline is fairly vague in details. They give you a date and a time to be at the studio. And that is it. Ironically, the show segment was on Mother Warriors; a concept developed by Jenny McCarthy to define mothers who would do anything to fight for and save their child. My mom was heavily feeling the symptons of empty nest with Tay Tay in Lexington as a freshman collegiate. Before the show began, Oprah invited guests to speak in front of the audience as their experiences relate to the topic at hand. My mom bravely stood up. She explained while getting choked up that she was a mother of four and was feeling lonely without her children at home and how magical that here she was with her eldest daughter at a show about Mother Warriors.

You see, my mom has had a hell of a life so far. Abandoned by her real parents at the age of 3, she was shipped from foster home to foster family to foster home getting beaten by her temporary guardians. At age 4, she was adopted by my amazing grandmother and my grandfather. Her life became somewhat normal until a decade later my grandfather ran off and left my grandmother alone to raise 2 children. My grandmother worked 3 and 4 jobs to support them. My uncle handled the life events a lot harder than my mom and turned to alcohol. But my mom refused to let anyone or anything control her life.

So on this Mother's Day, even though we are miles apart, I want to take a moment to thank my mom for never giving up; for not letting the speed bumps of life get the better of her; for being a Mother Warrior.