So…my mother. Where do I even begin? She is outgoing, she is loud, she is fearless. She is a force of nature. She is everything I am not.
And when I was younger we butted heads. A lot.
I thought she was SO embarrassing. And I wanted her to be like “other” moms.
Because other moms were not everywhere.
At every classroom party. On every school field trip. Cheering the loudest at every performance or sporting event. Waiting at the bus stop after school.
Other moms did not fill their car with LEMONS and picket for two days in front of the car dealership that ripped her off by selling her a “lemon” of a car. (She won that battle).
Other moms did not roll into the school pick-up line sticking themselves out of the sunroof waving a giant bouquet of balloons and honking their horn to wish their daughter a Happy 16th Birthday.
Other moms did not hire a STRIPPER for their daughter’s 21st birthday. Yup, there I was, minding my own business at a Chinese restaurant with my boyfriend, parents, siblings, and all four of my grandparents, just munching on some egg rolls…
And suddenly a very muscley man appears in front of me. With a boom box. And the words “Happy Birthday Janene” written on his chest. And my mother is grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Other mothers just didn’t do that.
But as the years went by and I got older, I realized something…
Perhaps other children didn’t grow up in a home that was always filled with family, friends, food, and laughter.
Or with a mom who let their kids’ friends live with them when they needed a place to stay.
Maybe other people didn’t have a mother that “adopted” the little old lady she saw sitting alone in the back of the church every week, driving her to and from our home for family dinner every Sunday.
Or a mother that cooked elaborate meals for her grown children and grandchildren every single Tuesday night, year after year, making six different dishes so everyone could have their favorites.
Maybe other moms didn’t volunteer to take care of special needs babies, so the babies’ mothers could attend parenting classes.
And I guess I don’t know any other mom who spearheads a team, year after year, that has raised over $300,000 for ALS research, after losing her little brother to the disease.
And not every mom would jump on a plane when their grown daughter called them overwhelmed and crying one day from 1000 miles away.
Yes, I no longer wish my mother was like “other” moms.
I am only grateful she is mine.
My Sicilian mom stands barely five feet tall, but to me she will always be a giant.
Happy Mother’s Day to a “mother like no other”.
This is a video of my mom, at age 65, showing us how it’s done!
P.S. My mom had quite the reaction when my first book was released LOL. Read about it here: “A Mother Like No Other” https://www.imightbefunny.com/humor/a-mother-like-no-other/