Last night over dinner I heard a six-year-old boy crying as if someone had poked out his eyeballs with toothpicks. With his lips turned south, tears streamed down his face and he cried with such vigor I was reminded of the Spanish soap operas my grandmother used to watch when I was a child. Those Mexican actresses can cry so dramatically the camera appears to be shaking with their violent sobs.
The mother, in demure grace, ignored her child and conversed with her husband as if on a private date. She acted as if the room was silent and life was gorgeous. The world was black and it was just them.
Mothers. They are such a force of nature. They are a simultaneous blend of actress, coach, referee, teammate, lover, chef, chauffer, banker, nurse, and friend. I happen to be blessed with one of the best mothers IN THE WORLD and—while I make no qualms being undeserving such a fabulous chromosome donator—I am incredibly thankful for the impact she’s had on my life.
Mom, I love you. These simple words can’t really convey how I feel or what I want to say, but until I can find a better way of saying it, they will have to do. Thank you for never, ever thinking of yourself first, slicing your heart and pining it to my sleeve, and using your soft lips to remind me just how special I am. I love you.