“But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begins.”
— Mitch Albom
There is nothing quite like a mother’s love. You feel it in the softness and warmth of their hugs. You feel it in the smiles and laughs you share when something funny is said or done. You feel it in their eyes when they look at you in admiration, or even disappointment.
Truth be told, I am a mama’s boy and I’m proud of it.
Her love is the most sacred thing in my life. My mother’s love is reassuring when times are uncertain and abundant when times are exciting and prosperous. My mother’s love has shown me how I want to love in return. Not just to her, but to everyone I possibly can. My mother’s love shows me the blueprint for how to be kind, loyal, hardworking, generous and happy.
I remember when I was a little kid being dropped off at my Mimi and Grandpa’s house because my mom was off to work. I never cried so much and as my mimi held me I screamed bloody murder. Unfortunately for my mom, who came over to give me a kiss goodbye, she was nearly choked as I grabbed ahold of the fur on the hood of her winter jacket and refused to let go. They needed the jaws of life to unclench my fist. Okay I exaggerate, but I’m not that far off. There is no stronger me than I was that day and I don’t think there ever will be. Little kid me didn’t want to be physically separated from his mother’s love, but now as an adult I understand it runs deeper than proximity.
I’ve unfortunately known too many people that have lost their mothers at a young age and it jolted me into making sure I appreciate my mom every single day. Every day I tell my mom I love her. Every chance I get I give her a hug and talk with her because those little things like a hug, and a conversation are what matter most when it comes to our moms – and of course any meal that she makes “with love.”
My running joke with my mom was that I can’t make a meal because she makes it with love and clearly that’s the secret ingredient. But it isn’t just food that my mom puts her love into, it is every thing she does. Every word she says. Every person she meets.
She has been a nurse at Roswell Park for over 35 years – taking care of cancer patients. It’s a job I know I could never do and still can’t understand how she has the patience and tenacity to handle it. But she does because of her caring, giving spirit.
She made the sacrifice along with my dad to give my siblings and I the ability to go wherever our hearts and souls took us. She has supported every dream, cheered at every game, applauded every play and made sure to be there. My mom always makes sure she is there for us, whether we know we need it or not. I know we give her more stress than she deserves, which is why I want her to know just how much she means to me and how her story has helped me create mine.
She is the role model, parent, cheerleader, support system, lecturer, punisher I need. But most of all she is the mom I want. Some people aren’t blessed with a wonderful mom – there are struggles that can some times pull a mother and child apart. For me God has never given me a greater blessing than my mom. Every lesson I needed to know I learned from her and because of that I feel I am ready to leave my mark on this world.
To me, the most special part of my relationship with my mom is the times of year when an award show comes on. Most of the time we’ll watch together and she’ll turn to me and say that she can’t wait for me to be on stage accepting an Oscar, Emmy or Tony for something I’ve written. This is the proof that my mother’s love is the fuel for my dreams. When I feel ready to give up on a dream, she is the one who keeps me going and lets me know that one day I’ll be up on stage, with a gold statue in hand ready to say “Thank you, mom – because your story is where mine begins and it is through your story that mine can be told.”
I love you, mom.