My mom makes me want to cry with gratitude. She is the best example of kindness I have ever met. I don't think people who first meet my mom would remember her very well, except that she is beautiful. She doesn't like to stand out. She is shy, and quiet, graceful and gracious.
I'm so tired tonight. My house is a disaster of half unpacked boxes, India's toys, loads of laundry that need washing, and stories needing to be written. It is chaos. I don't function well in chaos. I want someone to tell me to forget it, to sit on the porch and have a cigar, but India is the only one here and she is asleep. So I call my mom. She's my mom - even if I wasn't childish enough to complain she would know that I'm feeling overwhelmed.
"Why don't you take a day off to get your house in order," she says to me. "Bring India over early and you can spend the day unpacking and doing homework."
My mom. My mom already with three young kids of someone else's to take care of. My mom who is already watching India for me when I work. My mom who loves in action so often that it has become who she is.
I am so proud of her.
So grateful.
So humbled.
I'm so in love with her.
She would only blush and turn away if I told her.
I think I will anyway.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
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2 comments:
If your mom is the queen, and I do not doubt it, you should probably think about a new e-mail address, yes?
Ahhh... but she is not Queen Ange. She's the Queen Mom. Or Mum, depending on where you're from.
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