Another Mother's Day

Another Mother's Day is upon us, a day in which we are supposed to dote upon the woman who gave birth to us, cooked for us, and raised us into the responsible adults we're supposed to be.  Flower shops all go in the black, restaurants have huge line ups from 8am to noon, and the producers of macaroni work double-time to keep up with the supply/demand problems from all the art that will be made by children.

My mother passed away in 2012, and not a day goes by that I don't think of her.

This isn't going to be one of those sappy, miss-my-mommy blogs.  We all know that's not my style. 

I do, however, find the humor in the odd places that I find myself thinking of my mother.  I can't go for a walk downtown without reminiscing about the donuts we'd get at Kreske's Department store or the hours on end she'd patiently wait for me while inside Cosmic Comics as I perused the 25 cent bins.

I can't hear Blind Melon's "No Rain" without thinking of mom.  I know, that's kind of odd, and given that my mother was a fairly conservative woman (this was the woman who asked my wife what a water bong was at the mall while looking at a display of them) if she'd known a bit more about Blind Melon she probably wouldn't have liked them at all.  But, my mom would watch the Coca-Cola Countdown with me Fridays on Much Music, and she thought the little girl in the bee costume was, "just really cute."  So she liked the song. This is also the same woman who thought the lyrics "Stayin' Alive" were, "ah-ah-ah-ah., staying the night, staying the night."  Beautiful.

I'm one of those guys who lets my computer screen saver shuffle through all the photos on my monitor, so sometimes when passing by I might see an old photo of mom and me on there from when I was a kid.  It can be a little odd too, considering the next photo in rotation could likely be Aerosmith, Superman, or even Lexi Belle, but I like the randomness of it all.

My mom made the best pancakes too.  Not too thick, not overly fluffy, and they were stacked in a circular motion.  They were the best.  I've tried and tried, and I just can't make them the same way.  I've gotten close, but I also don't want to crack that code because it gives me something to long for. 

I see a lot of my mom in my daughter Ryleigh.  Sometimes the faces she makes, especially when she smiles - an I mean really smiles - I can't help but see my mom there.

And now that I'm a parent myself, I understand so much more.  I understand how much more the little things must have meant to her, all the little things that growing up I took for granted - and I'm sure many of you did too.  I remember the day I cut off all my long hair, and how my first stop was to see mom and show her.  The look on her face was so excited, and at the time I thought, okay, she's happy I'm conforming to society again, but really I know she was just happy to see her little boy's face again.  Corny, right?  But if you have kids of your own you'll know what I mean.

My mom was pretty awesome.  She worked full-time as a telephone operator, made sure supper was ready by 5pm every day, kept the house and laundry clean, taught me morals and respect, and she even had a wicked rap song in the early 2000s.  My mom could do it all.

So, call your mom.  For no reason at all.  It would mean a lot to her.

- ryan