An Open Letter To You, Mom.

Dear Mom,

When I was younger, everyone used to tell me our baby pictures looked just alike, our personalities were similar, and our eyes told our story before we could open our mouths. To be honest, it drove me crazy. I thought to myself, “I want to be my own person. I want to be different. I want to forge my own unique path in life.”

Then, a year and a half ago, I was preparing for my wedding and I realized I couldn’t get married without a piece of you to take with me as I walked down the aisle. I started to reflect on the last 28 years of my life and recognized that without you, I wouldn’t be me. So, I asked if you still had your wedding gown that you married Dad in over 30 years back. Miraculously, the gown was still in one piece and seemingly as beautiful as the day you wore it back in the 80s.

Without reservation, I asked my seamstress if she could incorporate your dress into my own wedding day. She suggested she take a few pieces of the lace on your gown and sew it into my veil… And I LOVED it! I loved that I would be stepping forward into this new season with a tangible piece of you with me. I couldn’t imagine doing it without you.

About a week into marriage, I quickly realized that lace was symbolically, just the cherry on an ice cream sundae you had been preparing for me since I was a newborn.

You see, there isn’t a day that goes by in my life that your influence in my life doesn’t manifest in some way. When I was school-age, I remember my room was a mess. (Imagine that!) I continued procrastinating as you consistently came to the door to encourage me along. Finally, towards the end of that Sunday afternoon, you said, “Honey, start in one corner. Do that one corner. When you finish that one corner, move on to the next one. You’ll be done before you know it.” You had a few options that day. You could have easily a) cleaned it for me or b) yelled until I cleaned it to make you shush up or c) not cared and let me leave it a mess. Instead, you got down on my level and used it as an opportunity to teach me a life lesson. To this day, I use that advice – and not just to clean my room, but to conquer life. You see, it’s really about bite-size pieces. It’s about finishing that one “corner” and moving to the next, never allowing a huge goal to intimidate me. If not for that advice, I wouldn’t have finished nursing school, moved to a different continent, learned to manage my finances, or have been courageous enough to continue pressing the envelope on my own life goals. However, I KNEW if I could just take one “corner” at a time, I could get where I wanted to go.

Then, in high school, my very strong-willed personality made one of it’s many debuts. When I was a senior, Dad was adamant about denying my participation in a specific social event and I (perhaps more disrespectfully than I care to admit) completely disagreed. I came to you and tried to get your sympathy. “Mom, isn’t this so unfair? Mom, how can you let Dad do this to me? He’s ruining my social life!” You simply responded, “I trust and believe in your father’s decision. Even if I may not completely agree, I made a promise to God that I would honor him and his decisions in our home.” I am positive you had no idea the impact that has had on my relationships with authority in the workplace, but especially in marriage. You were honest. You were transparent about your own feelings, but you still chose the path of humility and honor. I think of that night on my bedroom floor upstairs almost daily when I struggle with submission and always remember what you said about Dad.

Mom, you sacrificed so much for us. You found ways to work from home to spend more time with us. You traveled hours to see our softball/baseball/football/golf/volleyball games multiple times a week. You spent your weekends at tournaments in the blazing sun. You chose to work in our community as opposed to taking a job in the “big city” so you could be close to home if we needed anything. You showed me what it looks like to be a Godly woman who supports her husband no matter the circumstances. You never missed an opportunity to encourage me or spur me on to something greater. You loved me even when I pushed you away. You still answer the phone knowing you may not get a word in for at least 20 minutes while I gab your ear off. You model what it looks like to genuinely love people for who they are, not who I want them to be. You have been and continue to be the vessel that God uses to help me open my wings to fly.

So, in preparation for marriage, I insisted I have a physical piece of you with me in my veil as Dad walked me down the aisle, but now I recognize you have given me pieces of who you are over the last two decades and then some. I will always have a piece of you with me.

In this life, the biggest compliment someone could bestow on me is to say that I have turned out just like you – to “wife” like you, to mother like you, but most of all – to LOVE like you.

I love you Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day,

me