Mother's Day

I have written a lot about my mom on this blog with little positive on which to focus. Today, I'd like to change that - partly to acknowledge good where it exists but mostly in an effort to refocus my feelings, energy and attention.

Dear Mom,

Here are the wonderful things I remember about you:

The way you loved animals. It was more than just tender affection, you were knowledgeable and instinctive about our pets' health and behavior. You always seemed to intuitively know the right thing to do in every situation. In addition, because you loved animals, you were generous with our exposure to them and so we knew and loved cats, dogs, hamsters, guinea pigs, birds, turtles and fish. Many of these pets were brought into our family by you but there were also moments of acquiescing to our pleas (and sometimes tears) regarding a found stray that just had to be kept.

The way you loved music. I cannot recall a time in my childhood where the walls of our home didn't absorb the melodies and sounds of various genres - ranging from rhythm and blues to country and western to classic rock. I remember the 8 tracks and the album covers which, to your chagrin, were often used as scratching posts by the cats (see aforementioned love of animals). I think people underestimate the impact of music on a young soul but, of all the times I spent the night away from home, I cannot recall a friend's family that seemed to honor music as much as ours and I feel blessed by this.

The way you respected people. In our house, it would have been much easier to get away with dropping a foul four letter word than to utter "nigger" or "fag" both of which represented an "ignorance" for which you had zero tolerance. At a very early age, you taught me not to judge people by their ethnicity or orientation but, rather, by their actions and intentions. You seemed sensitive toward others and adept at looking into the heart of people; perhaps because you hoped others would do the same toward you. On related notes, we were not allowed to say "shut up" due to the sheer disrespect of it and playing with toy guns was out of the question because "guns were not toys" and it was ridiculous to you that they would be marketed as such.

The way you respected the earth. The only thing as egregious as prejudiced labeling and ignorant name calling was littering. This might seem trite or obvious to some - especially in what is now a very eco-sensitive world - but I will never forget the reaction I received the first time I casually tossed a candy wrapper from the car window. I am confident this served as my motivating factor for cleaning the woods behind our house, an effort in which I enlisted many neighborhood kids. Ironically, while I often wished our home were better kept (in comparison and contrast to that of my friends'), you drew serious lines and expectations when it came to respecting mother nature and, in doing so, made me acutely appreciative of that which is greater than myself.

The way you respected literature. Not only was English your favorite subject but I grew up watching you read and remember perusing the numerous books that were piled throughout our home. I would marvel at your ability to instantly pronounce and/or define a word with which I was struggling and always in such a way that made it easy for me to understand and remember. In particular, I loved how you would listen to the poems I wrote and presented, taking note that you seemed especially proud which made me feel proud because you were so smart and articulate.

You have directly shaped and influenced the way my life has been enriched by a love of animals, a value of diversity, a respect for our environment and a sincere appreciation for music and the written word. All of these things are deeply important to me and so today, a day we acknowledge our mothers, I honor your place among them.

Jess