My Mom

I call my mom every day. She once told me, “You don’t have to do that. I know you’re busy.”

I replied, “But I want to!”

My mom is my first best friend. She is my biggest fan (though The Picky Eater gave her a run for her money.) She never scoffed at my dreams and always supported me in any adventure.

When Dad wanted me to go to college in my home state of Missouri, Mom understood my need to venture outside of my childhood area. When I would leave school for periods of time to work as a nanny along the East Coast, she understood my desire to see parts of the world I only knew from books and television. When I wanted to spend five weeks exploring Great Britain, Mom understood, even though it meant returning to school mid-semester.

When I settled down in New England for almost 20 years, she understood. When I went years between visits home, she understood. When I felt the need to move back to the Midwest but chose Kansas over Missouri, she understood.

And in this past year, the darkest year of my life after loosing The Picky Eater, she understood. She offered support—both moral and financial—as I waded through my grief and started to move forward in life once again. She did all of this while dealing with her own grief after loosing Dad.

I am who I am because of my mom.

A nasty virus is keeping me from visiting Mom this weekend, but I’ll be there in a couple of weeks to celebrate her birthday. However, my heart, thoughts and prayers are with her daily.

If you’re thinking about a treat for your mom, may I suggest my mom’s favorite angel food cake. It is easy to prepare and delicious.

Yes, Mom, I’ll bring one with me when I come!  

I love you!