A long sentence for Mom
Bethel University digital journalists thank their moms for the important things on Mother’s Day, like Cinnabon at 3 a.m. and vintage polka-dot dresses.
I know you, Sarah, you’re the type of mother who will buy a bag of chocolate chips and eat the whole bag before you have a chance to actually make the cookies.
Anyways, thanks mom for dragging me and my friend all the way to Chicago to see a One Direction concert and continuing to drive us when we were going to be late even though you really had to go to the bathroom, for being there to fend off the women on St. Martin island in the Caribbean who kept asking to braid my hair, for eating a Cinnabon with me on the Maplewood Mall floor at 3 a.m. on Black Friday when no one else would go with me to get that buy 3 get 3 Bath and Body Works discount, for vigorously watering my cacti when I traveled to India all January, even if you did end up killing that one ivy plant, for watching PBS news 24/7 and always keeping me up to date on the next leg of the coronavirus, for sleeping so hard you didn’t even realize I had let my friends stay over until 3 a.m., for reminding me to care for other people more than myself or politics, for swiping through my Tinder profile with me while being overly picky on the guys I swipe right on, for assuring me the miracle of childbirth is not THAT BAD as a ploy to ensure I give you grandchildren, for recommending the show “Stranger Things” on Netflix even though I almost fell off the treadmill from a jump scare, and for always helping me to stay on the right path while letting me be me. ~Molly Korzenowski
I know you, Huong, you’re the type of mom who would cook up a homemade five-course Vietnamese meal for her hungry son at 1 a.m. when you can hear his stomach growling.
Thank you for the time you took me to the emergency room to get stitches after I threw a slate rock towards a pole at Lions Park and it ricocheted back to hit me in the forehead, for going on the ferris wheel with me at the Minnesota State Fair because I was afraid of heights, for not getting angry at me in public when I took off my beanie at Mcdonald’s, revealing that I shaved my head bald after losing a bet with a friend, for letting me use thousands of LEGO pieces to recreate the Battle of Geonosis in your bedroom and you have to clean it up after when it was demolished, for always making me mung bean pastry whenever I’m feeling down to boost up my attitude and taste buds.
Thank you so much for helping me develop a relationship with the Lord, by forcing me to read scripture and join the Vietnamese Eucharistic Youth Movement, for helping me steal back my Roadmaster Granite Peak Men’s Mountain bike from a group of goons, for letting me keep all the money I found under the pool at the Vinpearl Land Waterpark, and most importantly, for reminding me that my birthday is not all about me, but it’s actually about the woman who brought me into this life because that is more worth celebrating than myself and I love you for that. ~Toan Vo
I know you, Derrith, you’re the kind of mom who walks into a public bathroom by yourself and comes out with three friends.
Anyway, thanks, mom, for the games of Words with Friends, for putting up with me when I played “QI” for 65 points, for taking me to Dairy Queen to get our cookie dough Blizzards, for laughing with me at every episode of The King of Queens, for trying to fit in with us cool kids by hitting the quan, for allowing me and my friends to build forts in the basement with every pillow and blanket in the house, for trying to talk sports with me even though you had no idea who Tyreek Hill or Taylor Martinez was, for being the “cool mom,” by making a special trip to Target to buy water balloons on a hot summer day. for breaking up arguments between Liam and I over who gets to pick the TV show, for golfing with me even when all you wanted to do was drive the cart, for your unwavering strength raising three young kids through multiple moves and two year-long deployments for dad, for showing the importance of family through your relationships with your siblings and parents, for letting me go to the small Christian school rather than sending me to the big city school, for teaching me from an early age what it means to be a follower of Christ, and living that out over the course of a three-year battle with colon cancer, for never wavering in your faith and insisting this is all part of God’s plan even when we didn’t totally believe it, for making it to every one of my high school basketball games even though you were going through chemo treatment and could hardly get out of bed, for never saying “No” to making a memory — like the time we went to Mexico even though you were sick from chemo and you still went zip lining with us, for living your life with a love for all people, even the brother in law who had distanced himself from the family, for showing me what it means to be a good spouse, parent, and friend, and for paving a path I strive to follow every day of my life. ~Logan Murphy
I know you, Chanda, you’re the type of mom that will drop anything and everything when I’m having a bad day and need a shoulder to lean on.
Anyway, thank you for the hours of carpool conversations talking about how many Culver’s fries we could eat before we wouldn’t fit through the door frame, for bringing me a venti Very Berry Hibiscus from Starbucks when I need a little motivation, for the long nights we stayed up talking about how the mean girls at school are always going to be around but the trick is to go where I am celebrated, not tolerated, for the years you played the role of stage mom at the dance studio and then circus and sparkled every single costume and tied every single shoe, for making me the most popular fourth-grader when you made me the coolest locker decorations anyone at OH Anderson had ever seen, for sitting at the end of my bed and listening to me complain about the geometry homework and for telling me you never understood math either but you made it out OK.
Thanks for taking me on shopping sprees after bad days and the occasional venmo messages of $20 “just because you deserve it,” for playing with my hair when I couldn’t fall asleep, for sitting outside my bedroom door when I was 4 at 10 p.m. folding laundry until I would finally fall asleep so the monsters wouldn’t get me, for holding me during my losses and celebrating me during my accomplishments, and always promising me God has a plan so much brighter than I could ever imagine. ~Makenna Cook
I know you, Jennifer, you’re the kind of mom who quietly brings fruit to my room when I’m in the middle of studying without me asking.
Anyway, thanks, mom, for all the times you cooked Guyanese chicken curry with loving hands, for buying me vintage polka-dot dresses before I left to study in Paris, for being a supportive passenger when I drove my first road trip to Chicago, which took 12 hours but felt like a lifetime, for threatening to give our cat Adonis up for adoption but showering him with kisses behind closed doors, for showing bravery by going scuba diving with the rest of the family at the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef in Mexico even though you were scared to death, for giving me a sister who I begged to have when I was 7 years old, and ever since, her existence has taught me how to share my LifeSaver Gummies, for saying yes to all the sleepovers I had with my childhood best friend in middle school even though you thought she was a bad influence on me, for forcing me to talk to my relatives when they called because I’ve learned over time that family will be there for me for all the times my friends won’t.
But also, thanks for making me care packages full of instant coffee packets and cerasee tea, my freshman year of college when I was 1,000 miles away from home and miserable, and for asking if I truly loved my high school sweetheart because what did I “even know about real love at age 18,” and most importantly, for giving me the one-page long warfare prayer that’s been passed down from generations that I whisper to God every morning, because you’ve taught me God is always the most important thing in life, even more than loving you. ~Jessica Trowell
I know you, Steph, you’re the kind of mom who laughs deafeningly loudly at something mildly funny.
Anyway, thanks, mom, for losing your voice at every one of my volleyball tournaments and an occasional academic awards ceremony, for setting off the smoke alarm in your attempt to make fondue for us on Christmas, for speeding down the road to bring me from my eighth grade musical rehearsal in Rogers back to volleyball practice in Maple Grove, for adjusting your work schedule so that you could pick out my voice in the midst of a sixty others at choir concerts, for showing me how to love hard by not thinking twice about donating financially to someone you know who needs it, for not pushing me away even when I push you away, for getting so excited when Facebook tags you as me or an old college friend of yours thinks we’re sisters, for not allowing me to play My Sims Kingdom for four hours straight during the summer of 2011, for pulling me out of school multiple times so we could road trip to places like Eau Claire, Wisconsin just to see where you grew up and laugh that you used to be a Packer fan, for listening when I ranted to you about not having all As, the rain ruining my weekend plans, and Kiersten making me late to things and giving the best advice you could, for reminding me daily life is not perfect and I am not expected to be either, for digging out your prom dress from 1988 and letting me try it on for the laugh, for never making fun of me when I get overly anxious about the boy not texting me back or the upcoming test, for setting an example for me of how a woman of Christ can be boss and still show grace and kindness, for being a chocolate snob and teaching me that life is too short for bad chocolate, for not mentioning that I’m your daughter when you speak as a guest in Bethel classes, for helping me trick Dad into buying things we want but don’t need — like the massage gun, the trampoline, the extra fancy jump ropes that cost fifty dollars but the reviews promised it was worth it, remember that? — and for being the best example I know of how to truly be comfortable in your own skin. ~Emily Rossing
I know you, Jackie, you’re the kind of mom who packs a bag full of groceries and treats every time her college kids come home so they can leave, refrigerators full for the next month.
Anyways, thanks, mom, for pulling my hair up every morning of fourth grade for my signature ponytail when I didn’t know how; for swerving the minivan to the beat of “Freeway of Love” after half-days of kindergarten on lazy afternoons; for the daily walk/runs with the wind and the sun streaming across our faces and turning around the morning I didn’t dress warm enough (after you told me I wouldn’t be warm enough); for trips to the Minnesota Zoo, shielding me from the fishy splash at the dolphin show and always letting me have the Powerpuff Girls popsicle; for all the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, the jelly always strawberry and the crust cut off when I went through that phase; for picking me up from college on the weekends when I hated freshman year; for introducing me to the best Cinderella movie ever and being my personal Whitney Houston; for the constant supply of vegan desserts; for putting up with all the times we kids wandered through the aisles of Blockbuster, only to settle on SpongeBob — when you’d rather watch Minority Report — for stay-up-night; for walking 60 blocks at night in New York City when our subway tickets wouldn’t work and still wanting to travel the world with me; for all the “I love you a whole big bunch forever and ever amens” shouted across the bedroom walls when I couldn’t fall asleep; for calming me down when my heart felt like it was going to burst the first time I rode The Wave, and afterwards when we laughed, soaking wet, at how silly I was; for driving me to elementary school and middle school and high school because I was too anxious to take the bus; for all the kombucha surprises, just because; for being a Trekkie and recognizing every episode of the original series within the first five seconds to determine whether it’s worth watching; for praying for me even when I lose faith; for supporting me through all the tender moments and cold shoulders; and for being the mom I hope I can someday be. ~Anita Stasson
I know you, Bonita, you’re the kind of mom who needs coffee, with three sugars and french vanilla creamer, first thing in the morning to get that needed energy boost right before everyone else wakes up demanding your attention.
Anyways, thanks, mom, for always having Froot Loops in the house because you knew they were my favorite, for picking me up every day after school because I was too lazy to walk the half mile home, for the many family road trips to Florida because you knew how much we loved the ocean, despite knowing how moody everyone gets driving home, for moving us to Anoka so we could be block from my cousins so we’d always have family around to go camping at Camp Lebanon with and game nights which really just consisted of us playing our own version of charades which we called bowl, for always supporting my ideas, like the time I suggested we turn a three day road trip into one and a half by driving all night and only stopping when we needed gas or the time I decided to move to South Carolina for a summer to go on a missions trip with CRU and ended up scaring you half to death when I made you think I got kidnapped, for allowing me to fully embrace the spirit of Halloween because you know it’s my favorite holiday despite believing that it’s not a very Christian thing to do, for showing me how to care for others every day we worked together at Chick-fil-a, and for endless hugs because I can never get enough. ~Josh Sanchelli
