Happy Father's Day, Mom!

            Wow! Has it really been over three months since I posted a writing? I write in my head all of the time! Probably a good thing all of that doesn't come out on the keyboard. Nonetheless, with Father’s Day upon us I have been thinking about a realization that hit me a few years ago; I had no one for whom to buy a Father’s Day gift. My father passed away years ago, as did my step-dad, and I was divorced. I did have the kids get their dad Father’s Day gifts, but that was different. It was strange. Not sad as much as it was just strange.

            Today is the anniversary of the day my dad passed away. I’m not sad really. It happened 38 years ago. Of course I miss him and think about him often, but with Father’s Day on Sunday, I wanted to say Happy Father’s Day… to Mom. I have been a single mom for 9 years now and although my kids’ father is still very much in the picture and we are very amicable with one another, my mom didn't have the same luxury of having the help I do. I am not making this a sad post, so don’t grab your tissue box just yet. I just realize that in those years of raising us alone, my mom truly was our mom and dad, and I am here to tell you that that is probably harder than anything else in the world you can be.

            So, why am I writing this and posting it instead of quietly calling and thanking her? For a couple of reasons. 1) If you know me, you know I would snot cry through the entire conversation with my mother, warranting her to ask me, “Are the kids with you?” actually meaning “Are you about to go postal and do I need to get over there?” and 2) Because if you had a single parent for any amount of time, you need to realize that the double duty they served was a far cry from easy, painless, and thoughtless.

So, Mom, I realize now that there was never, ever a night that you slept soundly after Dad died. I realize that you worried about everything from the shape the house was in; to the food we ate, to our relationships at school. I know the very person you wanted to talk to about everything in the world was gone. I know that you threw yourself into helping other people because you knew that was the way you could cope with the heart-break of losing your best friend. I saw you love bigger and deeper than you realize you probably could ever love and it prepared me to do the same, if I ever needed to. And I did. And I do. I watched you sit back and let us learn our own lessons, as painful as they were, while I’m sure you wish you had someone to talk to, someone to back you up. You did an amazing job with us. You taught us to be independent, strong, educated women because “You never know when you might have to support yourself” and we all have had to. And we all can. Thank you. You said you might have to break the knee caps off the love of my life…. Thank goodness you didn't and probably wouldn't have, but that’s what a dad does. It was funny and we laughed, but thank you for making us laugh even when our hearts were breaking. You picked your battles with us helping us learn that not everything in life is life or death. We watched you decide to pick yourself up and travel the world, teaching us that we do not, absolutely do not lie down and die in bitterness and dread when life doesn't turn out the way we planned (and it never really does).

In all of the things I watched over the years of you being our mom and dad, I learned and little did I know, prepared to be the same to my own. My situation is a bit different. I don’t know if it’s better or worse being single by choice or not, but I know this: you made me a better mom, dad, person because you had a strength unequaled. You are one of the tiniest women I know, but your grace, your love, your determination are admired by all… especially me. I know that I can never come close to being what you are, but I thank you for the lessons you have taught me, especially the ones you weren't even aware.

While Dad made his mark here on this big beautiful earth, don’t ever doubt that you have made, and continue to make things beautiful everywhere you go. You touch souls and hearts. You create laughter and fun (you can thank me later for not inserting all the stories about the trips in here… or maybe that’s another blog!).

So, Mom… thank you. And Happy Father’s Day! I love you more than you know!

The middle one J

Becky

AKA BeckBug