My Ma

Mother’s Day

My ma.

Sure, I think about the fact that I am a mom but mostly get lost in the thoughts of what my ma means to me.

A lot of people will tell you we look alike, which is not a bad thing.

Truth be told, I am my mother in more ways than just looks. I have never wanted to be anything but my mother. I have wanted to love like her, laugh like her, think like her, live like her, have a marriage like her and ultimately be her.

We think alike. Decisions tend to take weeks to make if ever made. We second guess the decision. We analyze the decision. We change the decision once it is made.

And we like the same things: Starbucks Chai Tea Lattes, Havianas, basil, real onion rings, pretty pedicures, a good book, slippers in the winter, country music and Steak and Shake Diet Cherry Coke.

My drive each morning starts with a phone call to her. The days we don’t talk I feel like I have forgotten a critical piece to my day.

My drive each afternoon ends with a phone call to her. Some days the phone call is rushed but as long as I hear her voice, the day can end and I can handle anything.

In between the conversations, the visits, the vacations, and the packages, there are moments that hit me like a ton of bricks where I wish she was here. I wish she lived closer. I wish I saw her more. I wish our lives were threaded like a tightly weaved basket on a daily basis. And then I stop and remember they are. It’s not the miles between us, the difference in our days or the years that separate us. She is my ma, my best friend and I find myself smiling knowing that she is what makes me me.

And for that, I say thank you. I love you. Happy Mother’s Day!

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