When I was young I thought my mom had super powers. She could fix anything that was broken, kiss away Boo Boos, sing me to sleep when I was tired and cheer me up when I was sad. I believed she never slept because she was awake to tuck me in and kiss me good-night and was up in time to make breakfast for me before I woke up.
By the time I started school and I realized that no, she wasn't a super hero, she was a genius. She could tutor me in math, proof read my English or help with a science project. She knew everything about religion and baking and sewing and on and on and on.
Years went by and soon I was in junior high. I looked at my mom and saw a magician. She could turn chores into games and create art from scraps. She could tuck her three youngest daughters into bed and then magically make three Easter dresses appear before they woke up on Easter morning. There they would be laid out on the couch with white shoes, white gloves and Easter bonnets. That is a magic trick I will never forget.
By the time I reached high school I thought I knew everything. I knew without a doubt that my mother was a talented artist and a dreamer. She was the only mother I knew that painted murals on the dining room wall and wrote Christmas pageants for church, composing the music herself.
As a very young adult my world suddenly crumbled around me and there Mama stood as my rock, close beside me to hold me as I cried and to assure me that God had a plan. She listened as I insisted that it wasn’t fair, not judging just quietly assuring me that “the sun will come up tomorrow.”
The sun did return and with it three daughters each one arriving on the heels of the previous one. I found myself a young mother constantly busy with diapers, laundry, picking up toys and teaching my little ones not to play in the toilet or the fish tank, I suddenly realized that my mother was a saint and a martyr. I marveled at all the love and patience she had given us and wondered how she survived twelve children. But she didn’t merely survive us, she found the time and energy to offer each of us unconditional love, making sure we knew that we were wonderful and special.
Now I look around and see that I have grown older and they say that with age comes wisdom, though I don’t feel very wise. I now see my mother more clearly and I realize that she is all those things and more. She is a super hero, a genius, a magician and artist and dreamer, my rock and a saint but most of all she is my Angel Mother who loves me, inspires me, encourages me and makes me want to be a better person than I am. She is a kind and gentle woman, a loving mother and grandmother, a quiet light that warms all how come in contact with her. She is the woman that I hope to someday be. Mama, I love you!