Today, while I was making dinner, ASH was lying on the floor at my feet, staring aimlessly at the ceiling whilst digging his little toenails into my lower calf muscle. My first thought was "Hello? Can't you see that that hurts my leg?" But then I started to laugh, because, in a flood of instant memories, I realized it: I am his mother--not a person, per se, but a constant, forgiving, institutional force in his little life. And, just as suddenly, I felt compelled to send you an overdue apology.
Mom, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for all of the times I sat at your dinner table (after you slaved for an hour) and, with sneering emotion, deemed the menu "YUCKY!"
I'm sorry for the incessant talking, the incessant questions, and the incessant whining.
I'm sorry for all of the times I invaded your personal space, barged in on you in the bathroom, and took your things.
I'm sorry that I never saw you as a learning, growing human being or realized that you had feelings, dreams, bad days, sick days, passions, and responsibilities beyond me.
I'm sorry for leaving the towels on the floor.
I'm sorry for taking your kitchen gadgets and dish soap* outside and not bringing them back in.
I'm sorry for fighting with the sibs.
I'm sorry for walking around with my nose up in the air, feeling positive that I knew more than you did.
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When all is said and done, it is your example of patience that helps me to laugh and (yes!) enjoy the highly entertaining, constantly enlightening, sometimes daunting, and habitually thankless job of motherhood.
Love,
Deborah
*Incidently, the addition of dish soap to mud makes the most lovely, frothiest mud pies. I miss those days.
1 comment:
Oh, Deb, I love you! Mom
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