Sunday, May 8, 2011

my mom.

For as long as I can remember,
everyone has told me that I'm the "spitting image" of my dad.
Our physical appearance, our behaviors, our humor-
the spawn of my father, they would say.
Yes, I see it, very clearly, these attributes passed down,
but, every day in a multitude of ways, I can't help but see my mom some where in there too.
And more than just see it, I feel it. I feel the woman that I've looked up to for my entire life,
just waiting to bust from my very own seams.
I feel her creativity and her kindness,
her compassion and her wisdom.
I long for her endurance and her contented spirit,
her warmth,
her strength,
her metabolism.
She has taught me to see this world in ways that are more colorful, more alive.
I've learned how to walk taller and fight harder because of her.
She is the fiercest
and gentlest
and most beautiful
woman I know.

And I can't wait to see more of her
come out of me.

p.s. There is a reason no picture is accompanying this post. You see, my mom hates pictures of herself (as a rule) and so, in honor of her, I will put no such thing near this blog. So, Happy Mother's Day mom:)


marsha said...

sweetest thing ever~ I love that your gift to me uses YOUR gift of words. It is my honor to be your mom.

Eva said...

what a sweet mother's day post :)