To My Mother...

At about 6:00 this morning, I was working on my publication layout while listening to Patty Griffin. There is one song of hers called "Top of The World" that somehow seemed to capture the very essence of my mother's life, at least one aspect of her life. Out of nowhere the song completely brought me to tears and flooded my mind with a million "what ifs" about her life.

I don't know a whole lot about my mother's life, prior to having kids. But the thing I know most about my mother is that she's the strongest person I've ever known. This is something that cannot be taught. I know that she has passed this strength down to me and my siblings. I think it's the strongest common thread, and the greatest gift that my mother has given us.

The sacrifices she made take my breath away, and inspire me to be a better person. She recently told me about a time right after my youngest brother was born. It was December, 1984, and my father was deployed overseas. My mother was pretty much on her own. About a week after coming home from the hospital, there was a bad cold snap that caused the heating in the house to be shut off. Still bleeding and not fully recovered, my mother chopped firewood and moved the furniture around the fireplace to ensure that we would be okay. She did all of this by herself. There is no doubt in my mind that this is just one of infinite personal sacrifices that she has made for her children. I may not truly know what it's like to have this type of dedicated, unconditional love for someone, but I sure as hell am glad to know that my mother does.



My mother is a very private person, and probably doesn't want her personal stories aired in such a public venue. But I can't help but want people to know how proud I am to have her as my mother. She is dynamic and inspirational. She is strong, but vulnerable. She is the inspiration for a lot of the work that I'm doing this quarter.

My father is very lucky to have my mother in his life. And although he may not be the most emotional or romantic person, I can't help but think that his dedication to her is inspired by her dedication to us. I think this is love in its rawest, truest form. It's pure, unconditional dedication. While he may not sweep her off her feet, or engage in huge romantic gestures, my father owes my mother his life. In the same vein that my siblings and I owe my mother our lives. Because my mother put our needs before her own. I don't know how to repay her for this. How do you do that?