A few years back, my mother told me a story about one of the first dates she went on with dad. She was a college freshman at the University of Houston, and they had planned to meet at the intramural fields early one morning. Mom awoke hungry, and consulted her mini-fridge, only to find the options slim. In an effort to quickly satisfy her need for sustenance, she reached for a cold beer. I’ve never asked this of my father, but can only imagine him to be startled (or perhaps intrigued) upon sighting this raven-haired beauty, strutting toward him, early morning brew in hand, as if it was perfectly standard behavior.
I’ve come to refer to this story as the time mom had a beer for breakfast. I love it so much, because it says nothing and everything about her, all at the same time.
My mother is sassy and stubborn – a lethal combination if you ask me. A known hell-raiser, who puts her efforts to good use, has something to say about everything, and never falls short of proving a point. Insanely intelligent; “Em’s mom” was known among childhood friends as the human encyclopedia. To this day, she’s the only person I know who finds pleasure in dissecting electronics, simply for the sake of understanding the reassembly process. To deem her independent would be an understatement of the highest degree. Aside from tending to the family automobiles; she’s always operated under the “do it myself” motto. A master of mending wounds, both of physical and emotional nature; she’s prevented many an emergency room visit. She’s everyone’s rock, executing daily with grace under pressure, detouring the anxious from fear and worry. Rarely on-time for anything, she’ll always make time for those she loves. Her seemingly serious exterior (or RBF) does not overshadow her giant, genuine heart. She lives without regret, and hasn’t for a moment, refrained from setting goals and chasing dreams (not even after thirty years of managing the chaos that accompanies raising four children).
Often, people tell me I remind them of her. When they do, I like to to picture her on that day in ninety-seventy-something; a young version of the awe-inspiring bad-ass I now call Mom. Truth be told, there’s no individual I’d rather exemplify.
To the most incredible woman I know – I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.