This week my mom has turned 60 and next week she retires from work. It’s a big year for this gal, and we’re having a party to celebrate. After all, she’s a pretty fabulous woman.
My mom went back to school when I was pretty young, and one of my earliest memories with with her was helping her study for an exam.
I was sitting with this giant medical book draped over my little lap. She had a terminology test. We were studying.
I remember it so vividly. It was just us sitting on the tv room floor. The carpet was purple.
I couldn’t ask her to define the words because I didn’t know what the words were. They were too big; I couldn’t read them. So I would try to read the definition, have her tell me the word and then spell it because I still had no idea if what she was saying matched the word that was on the page.
I like that memory. It makes me smile.
Last summer, mom came into Toronto for the weekend in between her classes at St. Paul’s University in Ottawa. As we sat on my balcony drinking wine we reminisced about studying together back in the day. Then it dawned on me that she was now in university.
When I said that to her, she paused…and then laughed…and said yeah, I guess so.
I told her I was proud of her. I also told her I was thankful she was my mom.
And it’s the truth. I am so thankful she’s my mom.
She’s wild and wonderful. She’s quick to react and slow to get ready for work in the morning. She’s never without an opinion and always full of love.
I am the woman I am because I had a role model as strong as she. For every experience, for every cuddle session, for very unscripted life lesson I am eternally grateful.