Tribute to my mother

Tommorrow is Thanksgiving Day and my 31st birthday and all day I've been thinking of my mother. Probably a little because the twins have been extremely clingy today, a little because I'n always homesick at the holidays and a little because before Craig and the children... she was my life. Not to discredit my dad at all. He was a wonderful father, provider, teacher of wisdom, etc and I will always share a special bond with him. But it was my mother that I spent countless hours with every day. It was my mother that made me go back into the store to apologize for stealing bubble gum. It was my mother that sat beside me at teacher conferences and held my back my hair while I threw up with a stomach flu. It was my mother that learned to give me shots every night while I was going through in vitro (despite the fact that she almost passed out every time.)

Looking back at the two-thirds of my life spent in her prescence I can say she is the most unselfish person I've ever known. Whenever someone she loved was sick, she could be found caring for them, many times sacrificing her own sleep, interests and health. Whenever someone was lonely, she could be found sitting across from them on the couch, asking about their childhood, their families, their passions. Whenever someone was grieving, she could be found at their side, a shoulder to cry on with a chicken pot pie on the table.

I still call my mom every few days. Usually it is around midnight. No matter how late it is or how long she's been asleep, whenever I ask if I woke her she says, "Oh no. I was just resting my eyes." No matter how hard life seems, when I hear her voice on the other end of the line life suddenly isn't that bad. She has been my sounding board time after time. Sometimes sympathizing, other times telling me to be tough. "No matter how hard life seems...you WILL get through it, " she's told me many times.

Thank you, Mother. For 31 years of service to me. For singing me through months of the colic, saving my life with the blue bulb syringe, teaching me to love imagination and stories, showing me how to love others and think outside myself, and loving me despite what I may have said or done. I will forever be in debt to you.

Love Always, Lora