Happy Monday, everyone. (This is me being optimistic.)
I blogged about fathers yesterday; today, mothers are in the spotlight. I am probably closer to my mom than anyone else in this world. She and I have kind of an odd relationship, I guess. We fight a lot. And we're just alike - we scream. You do not want to witness an argument between my mother and me; my parakeet cowers in his cage during those rows. Then, we retreat to our separate corners of the house for a couple hours to seethe and simmer down.
Of course, a couple hours later, it's like the fight never happened and everything's back to normal.
My dad usually stays out of our hair when we fight, probably because he knows it's best to just leave the catty girls to their own devices to sort it out.
There's a quote by Omer B. Washington that comes to mind:
"I've learned that just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do."
My mom and I disagree on lots of things. And our tempers usually get the best of us. But we would go through fire for each other. Not that my dad and I aren't close, but my mom has always been the person who soothed me when I got teased at school; she's the one who knows without a word when I'm unhappy. She's been through most of this before and she understands better than most of my friends. Someday, when the adolescent years are over, she's going to be my best friend.
Even when we fight, I know how blessed I am to have a mother with her wisdom and understanding.
She named me after her mom, who died of cancer 37 years ago. From what I've heard, my grandmother Susie was an incredibly strong lady. My aunts tell me stories about her and I am filled with a vision of the Blessed Mother, because despite everything she endured in her short life, she was slow to anger and always full of love. I know she'd be proud of the lady my mom is, and I'd like to think she'd be proud of me.