What You’ve Taught Me
Mother’s Day is kind of like Valentine’s Day in a way. It’s another Hallmark Holiday where I have the option of just buying a standard card, with a standard message for my mom, my godmother, and my grandmother (in the past). But the reality isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. And “Happy Mother’s Day!” doesn’t explain the half of what these women have done for me.
To my grandmother. You taught me to be open to everyone. You were a first generation American who had no reason to not accept your family’s views on life, other cultures, or sexual orientation. But, instead, you opened your home and your arms to everyone. Everyone loved you because you treated everyone with respect. You never lied (even though sometimes you should have) and you were proud of who you were and what you stood for. You taught me to stand by who I am and what I believe in, even if that’s not the popular opinion. In another light, you are also the reason for my stubbornness and my excitement to turn 60, because you can “say whatever you want after that.”
You taught me how to lead a family with grace and dignity. You embodied the word “matriarch” in every sense. At 4’10” you had a presence that was unparalleled, except when we lost you in Lord n’ Taylor amongst the racks. I remember only seeing you cry one time when you received the folded American flag from Pop’s coffin. Though his death was sudden, you showed us all what strength looked like when we probably should’ve been the ones doing that for you.
To my godmother. You taught me to follow my passions. I know that I have disappointed you with my lack of rhythm and coordination (I swear I wasn’t adopted), but you’ve always shown me that I can work a full time job and have time to explore what really makes me happy. You claim that I’ve gotten all of my running talent from you, and we all know that’s just not true. I have acquired the talent of getting my room incredibly disorganized in a short period of time, just like you. Talent.
You taught me that a good sense of humor can go a long way. I will never not make fun of you for being the only person to find my father funny, but your laugh is infectious and makes everyone around you happy. Rarely have I ever seen you sweat the small stuff, and your ability to make my mom laugh until she cries almost weekly is amazing. Even if literally none of us understand why the heck you’re laughing in the first place.
To my mother. You have taught me the meaning of being a strong woman. First off, you raised two of the most challenging children on the planet (see I acknowledged it in writing). And watching you and dad swap roles of who was the breadwinner throughout our life, taught me a few things 1) gender roles are not binary (even if Dad still can’t do laundry) and 2) you should always be able to provide for yourself and eventually a family.
You’ve taught me that you can be happy doing this. After 25 years in corporate America, you did something pretty unheard of by going back and getting a Masters in Education to pursue your passion of being a teacher. And about 8 years after that, you realized you had another void in your life when you realized you hadn’t been dancing anymore. I will admit it’s a little embarrassing watching my mother do a split in the air when I can barely touch my toes.
Most importantly, the three of you have taught me that there is nothing more important than family. Having family dinner every Sunday has become a staple in my life and I am incredibly grateful to have everyone close enough to do this. You all showed up at all of my soccer games, piano recitals, marathons, college graduation (yes I had about 14 people attending graduation), and everything in between. None of which were convenient for you, but all of which was important to you because it was important to me.
To my women — Happy Mother’s Day!
