The Mom Tattoo

(This article is from 2013, before I had my WordPress blog, so I wanted to share it again on this Mother’s Day)

Don’t panic Mom. I didn’t literally get a tattoo. Your influence on my life is like a tattoo on my heart. I am who I am, in large part, thanks to you. You gave me my appreciation for the small joys that others often overlook. My mannerisms, opinions and blend of optimism plus common sense realism came from you. My flexibility and ability to remain fairly calm when things get a little crazy are things I learned from you. I picked-up your faith that helps me believe everything will be all right, even when things don’t look all right. I also managed to absorb some of your stubborn determination.

Our moms are our cheerleaders. Sometimes, they are our ONLY cheerleaders, even when there doesn’t seem to be a lot to cheer about. They just don’t seem to be willing or able to stop believing in us, even when we stop believing in ourselves. Wait….I hear a Journey song.

Our moms were also our first bosses and bankers. Allowances were paid for chores done grudgingly and usually with much arguing. Later, moms went without things they really wanted so we could have money for a movie or band instrument rental. Moms passed up jewelry they wanted so we could have our class rings. I remember my mom saving loose change in jars so money would be there for special things.

Our moms teach us a lot of things. Yes – potty training is high on that list. Good thing, huh? What about less common things? When I was 8 years old, our car broke down in the middle of the desert. I watched my mom remove her panty hose and use them to fashion a make-shift fan belt. The CHP officer who found us limping toward the next town was impressed with her resourcefulness. My mom taught me to love music. She also taught me how to be compassionate and to care about the needs of others – that includes protecting others. She taught me how to shoot a rifle and a bow, and how to fish. I met another mom who was a widow. Although not a hunter herself, she went with her son and sat through a hunter safety course so she could take him hunting – something her husband had always wanted to do once their son was old enough.

I’m far enough down the road now that I can finally see another quality about my mom. She was right. God knows I fought against her wisdom too many times to count, only to end up in the predicament she was trying to save me from. Don’t worry Mom. I passed that trait down to my children. It’s your turn to laugh now! Some of us don’t have our moms with us anymore. They’re cheerleading from Heaven. If you still have your mom here with you, don’t take that gift for granted. Love them while you can. The time that passed too slowly when we were younger passes much too quickly now that we’re older. Mom was right about that too. By the way, I love the “tattoo”. Thanks Mom!