A long sentence for mom
Ahead of Mother’s Day, Bethel University digital storytelling students share the important aspects of their moms, such as cheesy K-dramas and Madrid dance parties.
I know you, Janette, you’re the kind of mom who mails cards to your kids away at college even though you just saw them over the weekend.
Anyway, thanks, Mom, for letting me quit soccer, for helping me work up the courage to quit jazz/tap class, for encouraging my writing even though I’ve never finished a story, for supporting my love for all types of art, for coming to see Steel Magnolias even though I’m just the stage manager, for pretending to be interested in Star Wars, for watching all of those crappy kids movies, for playing Barbies with me when my sister was too busy, for driving me everywhere from school to the barn, for surprising me with Starbucks cake pops, for remembering my favorite flavor of Big League Chew, for getting me merch of my favorite characters, for letting me rant about how dumb of a movie “Goldfinger” was, for dragging me and Dad to North Dakota even though neither of us wanted to go, for singing to the dog every day, for being patient when I struggle to express myself verbally, for worrying about my lack of a social life when I was just introverted, for understanding that I sometimes need to escape family gathering to recharge, for pushing me to choose the college I wanted to go to, for being proud of me for arguing with you over a docking station, for understanding that academic struggles aren’t anything to be ashamed of, for encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone, for asking me if I was secretly dating someone because I seemed more confident, for pushing me to be truly myself. –Emily Costa
I know you, Siu-Yue, you’re the kind of mom who knows where everything is in the house because you pay attention to everything and everyone.
Anyway, thanks, mom, for your love of gardening, for your love of eating carrots, for teaching me piano, for losing me in Target when I was five, for not setting a curfew, for putting “special” sauce on pork chops which was just water mixed with scraps from the pan, for letting me grow out my bangs in second grade, for pizza Sundays, for eating the burnt cauliflower that I made, for the excessive cumin in your food, for paying $60 for a 30 minute skating lesson at the Mega Box when I didn’t learn anything, for watching Wild Kratts with me when I was in elementary school, for buying my brother and I 20 bowls of soup noodles in Kaohsiung, for not allowing me to go to any sleepovers, for not letting me eat Dum Dums when I was young because they had artificial flavors and colors, for accidentally sneaking beef jerky through airport security, for not buying any holiday decorations because you thought that it was a big waste of money, for staying up until 3 a.m. late helping me with physics, for sewing all of the holes in my clothes, for letting me go to Charleston with the Bethel chamber orchestra and then listening to me complain about how the Francis Marion hotel didn’t have free breakfast, for not getting mad at me when I didn’t do well on the AP World History test, for teaching me not to waste my time, for letting me cry on you for no reason, for encouraging me to study chemistry when I felt like I was failing, for tolerating my attitude without lashing out at me, for listening to me one Saturday at midnight, for not giving up on me. –Joyce Tsai
I know you, Jennifer, you’re the kind of mom who buys her kids chocolate on Valentine’s Day to make them feel less lonely.
Anyways, thanks, mom, for buying fancy chess sets without knowing how to play, for forcing me to do piano lessons because you knew it would pay off in the future, for letting me quit piano lessons even though you knew I’d regret it later, for badly singing the Hamilton soundtrack whenever we are on a road trip, for always buying me a Coke when we go to the store, for blaming me for stretching out all your shoes even though our feet are the same size, for buying me a bunny I could barely take care of after I begged and begged, for watching 47 meters down with me after my bunny died, for watching cheesy k-dramas with me for hours on end, for making me take beach pictures every year even though it’s torture for both of us, for telling the same stories over and over again, for making special meals for me because you know I’m picky, for braiding my hair in the tightest french braids known to mankind, for cutting my hair, for helping me make intricate halloween costumes, for stealing all of my socks with a false promise of returning them later, for sacrificing your career for my education, for giving me cheese instead of cake on my birthday, for putting a wet washcloth on my forehead when I’m sick, for calling me out of school every other day because I don’t want to go, for telling my sister not to make fun of me when I accidentally over-plucked my eyebrows, for always supporting me in my writing, for buying me books that I’ll never read, for teaching me how to tie my shoelaces on a random Saturday afternoon, for pretending I’m good at art, for dancing around the kitchen when you’re happy, for being selfless, for always being there for me when things are hard. –Sophia Simpson
I know you, Sarah, you’re the kind of mother who always dresses in fantastic outfits, coordinates to each holiday, has a fantastic taste for design, who introduced me to foods from all over the world and knows how to make each one.
Anyways, thanks mom for encouraging my art and expression, for bao and chili and buster bars on your birthday, for Madrid dance parties, for each driving playlist in the car, for fresh vegetables from the garden and raising me to love (almost) every single one, for healthy foods, for your rants about processed meals, for keeping calm in any medical situation, for Hallmark movies and our girls trip to Kansas City so I could look at the giant book mural, for outfits and cool earrings, for my first eyeshadow palette and every one since, for all the Lego sets and multitude of books, for every Adventures in Odyssey CD, for getting our Italian Greyhound even if it meant some extra cleaning around the house, for reading to me every night when I was little, for every trip to the library, for summer reading programs, for chocolate milk and hot cocoa, for letting me travel to different countries and putting up my pictures I took on the TV so you could see them, for urging us to go to church every Sunday and Wednesday, even if us arriving late drove you crazy, for causing me to love worship and music, whether it be dancing or singing or just sitting and listening, for driving 45 minutes to bring me to the Hidden Acres Retreats, for Saturday chores, for Starbucks on every road trip, for your humor and appreciation for mine, for falling down rabbit holes at family meals because you looked up the answer right away when we asked you a question, for always being engaging, for always knowing where everything is and what it’s for, for coming to events, for making a themed picture book after every family trip, for sewing our Halloween costumes so we could always go in something cool, for letting us know Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny weren’t real from day one, yet always insisting the Tooth Fairy was real despite our skepticism, for encouraging each homemade gift and card, for being unapologetically you, teaching me to be unapologetically me, for every “good night” even if I went to bed a lot later than you some nights, for hanging up my art, for teaching me to try new things and pushing me to pursue my goals. –Bella Haveman
[Editor’s note: Look for more long sentences for mom every day through Mother’s Day from Bethel University digital storytellers.]
