Mother's Day

Last Saturday, my loveable and energetic mother and her equally loveable husband, John, came over for a brief visit.  The trip was primarily for the purpose of picking up Riley, the golden retirever city dog who doesn't fully understand the complexities of horses, cats, and fences.  Secondary purposes included a visit to their stupendous daughter (that's me) and a brief trip down the memory lane of when theire relationship blossomed--one Mother's Day in Roslyn about five years ago. (I'll leave it to John, writer that he is, to put that dear story into words).

Our Mother's Day was not characterized by the typical sort of things that I associate with a Mother's Day celebration: flowers and strawberries and breakfast in bed (though we had a bit of that, too):

Rather, we had a carefree, laughter-filled, evening beginning with a dinner at Maverick's, and followed by (who would have thought) billards and ping pong at the local hot spots that I had never frequented until last Saturday.


I had such a great time, and, instead of being irritated or finding fault with all of my mom's idiosyncracies (many of which I regretfully notice in myself), I actually found them cute and endearing. 

We played pool and ping pong together.  Something that I have never done, and never thought I would do, with my mom.

We played doubles and we switched teams with every game. 
As the bruised paddles and puckered balls were put to rest,  I realized that I was the only one who could say that I had not been on a winning team the entire night (otherwise stated, every team that had me on it, lost).   

We had a great Mother's Day Eve.  Lying in bed that night, thoughts crossed my mind about how much fun we had enjoyed, how great it was that my mom, stepdad, Neal and I could spend such a great and silly evening together. 

Then, came the post-Mother's Day rest-of-the-week, when my sentiments towards my mom were more along the lines of "grrrr....you drive me crazy."   I know those feelings will pass, that I quite quickly will be regretting my impatience and rash behavior.   Eventually, we figure things out, and I restock on the fruits of the spirit that I seem to use up far more quickly than the produce in my refrigerator.

I suppose it's not that much different with mothers and daughters than husband and wives, sisters, brothers, or the other people who are the closest to us and whom we care about the most.  Just as they are the ones who love us the most, and whom we love the most, and who are the few that we can count on or turn to regardless of all things; they also are the ones with whom we tend to be the least tolerant, and the least understanding and patient.  Closest family and closest friends so often are the ones that treat us and that we treat the best, but they almost inevitably are the ones who have to see first hand the kind of messed-up and fragile people we really are.  That sometimes, despite the best intentions and the person who I want to be and like to think I am, I lose it, I act out of pride, fear, jealousy, insecurity, or frustration.

As this post winds to an end, my pendulum has fully swung back to "loving mom."  Indeed, it seems it always turns out that way, thankfully.  I am grateful for my mom, despite all the times that she aggravates or annoys me, I acknowledge that it probably doesn't even compare to the 36 years of aggravation and annoyances that I have given to her. 

These days I am far more attuned to the foibles and flaws of my mother (mainly because I observe them in myself) than I was as a youngster; but, I haven't strayed far from my grade school sentiments about my mother.  In grade school, I thought it was deceptive and wrong for Hallmark to make all of those cards with big medallions or ribbons on them saying "World's Greatest Mom," because greatest is a superlative and means there can only be one.  And at that time I truly believe that my mom was the greatest mom.  Now, I'm happy to know that my mom is indeed a great mom, but there are millions of wonderful moms out there, and that it is a good thing.  Competition and winning is not necessary in all things.  I hope that all moms are great, keep trying, and find the encouragement they need, and I hope that to every child, his or her mom, is the World's Greatest.  If it is not so, my wish for Mother's Day is that it would be, and that every mom would be able to have a big, cheesy, paper medallion on her vanity that told her that, at least in the eyes of her child, she really was the "World's Greatest Mom."   A little bit of sugary sweet post for my liking, but it's true.


 Today's Song:  Heart of Life by John Mayer.  http://tshallbetter.blogspot.com