The only person I wanted to be with when Katrina swooped down on the Gulf coast was my mother. The unwavering trust and, in the case of my mother, the knowledge that she has never sweetened the truth for me. If that isn’t a lifetime of consistency, I don’t know what is.
Happy mother’s day to the lady who bore me, and continues to bear with me 31 years running. If it weren’t for you and your strong beliefs, ma, I’d be on the floor in a million pieces now. Keep it together – a great lesson from a woman who lost her own home of 27 years to cruel fate and kept going.
Happy mother’s day to my grandmothers. One turns 90 this weekend and thinks I still look and sound like the four-year-old version of me. From her I’ve learned to respect youth at heart. The other reads, reads, reads, educates herself and makes artwork of beauty, right as her eyes completely fail her. It is because of this woman that I will always indulge in that most wonderful of activities, reading, even in the darkest of light and with the poorest of sight.
Happy mother’s day to D’s mom, who watches over us from another realm. If I ever have children in this nation and succeed at it, it will result from what I learned observing you. I miss you more than the tears that fall on this keyboard can describe.
How our grandmothers did it while responsible for generations of family and a flock of children, and how my mother did it with two impossible children and the most demanding of jobs, is beyond me. I’m a remorseless whineball when all I have to take care of is myself.
Lastly, happy mother’s day to every single maternal figure who made it through Katrina to tell the tale or to an early grave. Your strength is our future.
Respect.
Beautiful.