An open letter to My Mom

Dear Mama,

Not a 2Pac song I promise. Wait… You totally didn’t get that reference did you? My Bad.

Let me start by saying…

I love you.

You’ve not been the most conventional mom in the world. But then again, I’m not the most conventional daughter. And I’m pretty sure I was born that way, you just cultivated my weirdness with your own.

You have always been and will always be, an integral part of my life. No matter who I am, have been or will be, there is a part of me that is you. Some of that part is completely batshit crazy, but really? Only a small part. Most of that part of me, the base, the core of who I am is because of you, from you, is you. Is the part that is kind and funny and completely and unabashedly love. Just raw, unapologetic, unconditional love.

Daddy was always distant. There were times when I was younger when I wondered if he loved me at all. But not you. Never you.From the first moment I can remember, with every book you read to me, every smile you graced me with, every hug, every kiss, every…Everything… It all screamed, “I love you!” with such incredible conviction, I never doubted it. Not for one teeny-tiny, itty-bitty second.

Of course, it hasn’t been a walk in the park. I hurt you. You infuriated me. I lied. You hid. I know that you have regrets. I know that sometimes I had to take care of you. I know that it still hurts you that I was such a lying little shit to you. I know that sometimes you think that your disease took over and you failed me. But I also know… I know that you molded me into me. Imperfect? Sure. But I know that I am intelligent. And I am compassionate. And I am funny and I can see the humor in a shitty situation. I know  that I am happy and I know I like who I turned out to be. And that? That is, in no small part, because of you.

You read to me. You sang to me. You tucked me in at night. You supported me. You reassured me. And when Princess Punk came along and I wasn’t ready, you stepped in. And I will always be indebted to you for keeping me from completely fucking up my first-born. And I’m glad, that with The Peach, you finally get to step back and be Mima, with all the rights and responsibilities (or non-responsibilities) therein.

I know I argue with you. And I am a different parent than you. And it’s true that I want to do some things differently. But… Some of it? I wish I was more like you. I wish I was artistic as you and inquisitive as you. I wish I told stories like you. I wish I could be as caring and as generous with my love.

But, like you, through these 30-something years… Is it weird that I forget how old I am? Lets see… Hannah was born in 1900… Ahhh, ok… 33. Through these 33 years… Shit. Lost my train of thought. Got that from you too, didn’t I?

What I’m trying to say in my odd, rambling way, is that you are, always have been and will always be, my best friend.

And I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day Mommy



1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. My Mom
    May 12, 2013 @ 09:19:55

    Best Mother’s Day present EVER!


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