I know I suggested it but dang, its hard to put into words how you feel about the woman that is your mother. Its been said that you love your wife the best but your mother the longest. I guess that's true.
The earliest memories I have of my mom involve talk to me players. I'd get up at inhumane hours and if I wasn't puking I'd be asking her to cook me "some two eggs." Not once do I remember her booting my sorry butt back to bed. She'd either clean up my puke or make me my eggs. After she got my dad off to work me and ol mom would head back to bed where she'd tell me stories and sing me songs like "you are my sunshine" and "whoop there it is." Kidding, whoop was after my time. After Mother on Broadway I'd head off to bed so she could catch a few winks before beginning her role as Girl's Dorm Director. I usually wasn't tired so mom would set me up with my talk to me player. It was like a 1980's version of gameboy or something. I loved that thing. It would talk to me, well, read me stories at least, which worked out great for mom. Poor lady, she really needed her sleep.
As I got older Talk to me Player talked to other kids instead although mom still cared for me just the same. The truth is, my mom has always been my biggest fan. As well as my loudest.
It didn't matter what I was doing my mom always felt the need to let me and everyone else know that she thought I was pretty special. At times it got embarassing because I'd have just fouled out or missed a wide open shot but my mom still cheered just as loud, as if she never recieved the "your son sucks" memo. I can still hear her, like it was yestereday. "Goooo John, Yay John George." Sigh.
Besides cleaning up puke, making me eggs, cheering her face off and keeping me alive my mom has become a woman I truly admire and respect. For those of you that don't know, my mom turns____ next year and while most woman that age would be thinking of how many perennials they might like to plant, she has pumped out 2 Masters degrees and just recently got accepted into a Doctorate Program at a university in Philly. Dang that's impressive. I just completed one class and I feel like the king of the world. Besides all her edu, she also works for my bro's church as the part time counselor. And I can tell you first hand, she's amazing.
Last year I was a mess in more ways than one and she single handedly made me believe that not only would I get through it, I would be the better for it. And I did, and I am. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't been there when I needed her. She always has been though, been there I mean, and its changed my life. I am the man I am today largely because my mom has always been there to advise, encourage, love and forgive, but most importantly cheer.
Well mom, today is your day, so put down those pom poms.
Its my turn now.
Goooo Karen, Yay Karen Mariotte. . .
John
Sunday, May 13, 2007
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3 comments:
Love it!! always love hearing Karen yell out your name - it's still quite a vivid sound in my head. Thanks for sharing your mom and your love for her with the blogworld. She is a special lady.
That was just a glimpse of memories, eh. The morning feasts, cheese toast with special seasoning salt, your brown box for budgeting your allowance, your tape recorder, hamster basketball, flushing hammers, and I somehow I recall them starting off or ending with your mom. I remember her telling me that I either had to help you with your Saturday chores, a huge list, or go home and wait until you were finished. I always stayed, cause that was way more entertaining than going home. You'd be working on something, like vacuuming the floor (that was like a sacred thing for my mom, I think), and sooner or later you were asking, discussing, arguing, yelling, and then being punished for something to do with the floor. It was awesome; as good as a movie. Don't even let me get started on the movie or the rubix cube.
Oh ya. I remember eating at your house often. You doing something "rude" at the table and your mom or dad asking you to leave or some kind of code signal. You'd take off at a dead run up the stairs, down the hall, touch your door or step into your room or something and then tear back down the hall and stairs, and back into your chair. And then, act like nothing just happened. You just continued eating or doing the same thing again; and off you'd go again. It was hilarious; but I couldn't laugh cause your dad was like 6'6" or something. You just didn't go there.
I totally loved my childhood and doing stuff with your family. Your parents are great and I am glad that your mom did what she did.
Brian
Ha Ha, thanks B.
I had a full fledged belly laugh. So funny. And so true.
John
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