Ode to Momma: A Few Things

I wanna say Happy Mother's Day to my Mom, born Terri Turner of Knoxville, TN.  I am the second of five of her children and have always felt a real sense of fortune to be one of her chicks.  A few of the things I have always loved about her: her famous hair, everything about her face, her style, her voice saying my name, her common sense and her genuine nature, absent of pretense.  A few things about her that bring me awe: her endurance through this life, her rare beauty, her clear mind and keen memory, her plain-spokennes, her intelligence and focus, her determination and discipline, her intuitive and uncanny sense with babies, and the way she pursues her interests with such industriousness and enjoys herself doing it.

Then there are the countless things I am indebted to her for.  A few examples that illustrate her strength and goodness: I didn't know this until a couple years ago, but when I was born she was determined to breastfeed me, but I had projectile vomiting and would eject the entire first feeding every time.  So she fed me double for three months until I grew out of it, costing her quite a bit of physical pain, aside from the patience required.  An odd example perhaps, but I am so moved that she did this for her baby who couldn't repay her, when it would have been far easier and acceptable to give up.  But one indisputable thing about her, she is decisive and when she wants something there is no turning back.  Two:  Something I particularly appreciate about her mothering style was she gave me space--space to be independent, to risk, to work through my own frustration, to be in the privacy of my own mind.  I think it just came natural to her, plus she had plenty else to do than hover over me.  Three: I'm indebted to her for the deliberate decisions and pacts she made around what kind of mother she wanted to be, and her efforts towards it.  Like praising her daughters' beauty so we might feel secure in our appearance (as did my dad, which together I figure is why I'm able to be MOSTLY affectionate and grateful towards my own body today, and playful rather than obsessive about my 'skinnyfat' as I continue to convince myself it is, wrinkles, and idiosyncrasies).  Like documenting the faces and moments of her children's lives through pictures and video through the years, showing them they are somebodies worth remembering.  Like carting them around endlessly, in whatever vintage automobile was available, so they could lurch towards their many interests and hot pursuits, which for me alone included middle school parties, po-dunk talent competitions, auditions, rehearsals, and a million sports practices and games...and all these in between church THREE times a week (Father forgive us, we knew not what we were doing).

In short she had decided she would be a mom who was close by and hands-on with her kids in those years, taking a 20 year break from the workforce and any semblance of financial security to do so (now she's back in the workforce by the way, having to make up for lost time).  It makes me tired to think of her routine when she was my age (or even her routine now at 58).  But to the day I left the house, she was steady.  Her moods were steady, her affection was steady, her devotion was steady, providing us with her own unique maternal presence and dependability.  Nearly everything she did told us we had value.

How do you pay a mom back.  How do you pay her back.

Thank you Mom, I love you and as always I'm proud to be your daughter.  I can still see you, lathered in baby oil, lying out on your tri-fold in the hot back yard with the Top 40 radio going.  I can still smell your sour dough bread and taste your sweet tea containing two cups of sugar per gallon.  And I can still hear the most comforting sound maybe of all: your house shoes swishing down the hall on the hardwood as I'm lying in the dark.  Our adult relationship has taken on different shapes and evolutions, but these things are the floor of my experience of you.  I return to them, and more often they to me.  They comfort me, as does your care and generosity today.  Thanks for your love and your pride in me, then and now.

Holly