Mom and I had a great Mother’s Day. She and I went for sushi—her favorite—and I gave her a lovely bracelet from Palabra
, a new collection of jewelry we’re carrying at Bella Vita. (Love it. It’s set with three bronze hearts to signify my mom, my dad and me.)
The sushi was super. The gift was great. We talked, we reminisced. The afternoon was lovely.
But I’m left, four days after Mother’s Day, with a nagging, almost empty feeling. Why? Honestly, I think it’s because my heart is telling me I don’t say thank you enough, not just to my mom but to all the wonderful, helpful “moms” in my adult life.
Gulp. That was me, eating humble pie.
Maybe I’m saying aloud what you think from time to time?
You see, my mom did so much for me growing up, now that I look back on it. And it was a 24/7 proposition with never a day, weekend or holiday off. When you become a mom, it seems to me that you sign away all your vacation days, because even when you do get away without the kids, they’re on your mind and tucked away in your heart. (There’s that heart giving us trouble again, telling us to pay attention!)
Most of all, she worked hard every day, to instill in me a strong work ethic, to work hard and strive for excellence. In fact, I remember her telling me never to put my name on something that I’m not proud of. It’s a direct reflection of yourself, she used to say.
While I’d roll my eyes—away from her own seeing eyes and the ones seemingly in the back of her head—what she instilled in me serves me well today. It helps me carry on when the road gets tough; it makes me renew my commitment to the projects, the job, and the family and friends in my life when I feel my strength wavering.
Oh, and then there was the “always-do-the-right-thing” lesson she taught me. Rather, she showed me. One day she and I were shopping and accidentally, she broke a Christmas ornament she had picked up to admire. She left the store with the broken ornament still on the floor. Seems that incident and her reaction to it got the best of her. So she and I went back to the store and she insisted the store manager let her pay for the broken ornament. Lesson showed, lesson learned.
Again, it wasn’t once a year, it was every day she worked hard to be my best mom possible. She didn’t do it to receive cute handmade cards or jewelry, either. She did it because she wanted me to become the best, most ethical person I could be, to make wise choices in life and to surround myself with others who would support and nurture me later on. (When you’re an adult, moms can’t always be there to pick you up, unfortunately.)
Thanks, mom, and thanks to all the moms who work so hard and so diligently to raise children to be good people, good citizens and just plain good for this world.
Good job, everyone, every day.