Ode to My Mother

I think Abraham Lincoln said it best: “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” Eloquent in its brevity. I too have been blessed beyond recognition with a mother that could be described as nothing less than an angel. All mothers are truly queens among peasants, but I am going to take literary and sonly license to praise my mother above all others. This is in no way a contest, for most people contend that they have the best mother in the world. Statistically that is impossible. The term best implies that there is only one that stands above the rest. Well assuming there is one such mother, she is probably heavenly and beyond our sphere of comprehension. So all clichés aside I think we can agree that everyone who loves their mother and thinks she is the greatest is correct. She is the world’s greatest mother for you. With that being said I would like publicly declare how special my mother is.

            My family, like most families has been through a lot. We moved around like happy wanderlusts growing up; new houses, new neighborhoods, new wards, new faces, and new schools. Through the pleasant and the untoward my mom has been there with her contagious smile and warm embrace. My childhood was filled with hugs and giggles. My mom has a certain ineffable way about her. She seems to have no ability to become angry, and though we are all subject to human emotions and frustrations, her attitude has always been amazing and exemplary. Her feminacy was always coupled with a healthy dose of competitive nature. Our scrabble games are legendary, and the memories I have of playing games with her are beautiful and priceless, just like her. My mom taught me to enjoy the small things in life. She gets excited when the new Reader’s Digest arrives; she is thrilled when she dominates a cross word puzzle like a true cruciverbalist, and is overcome with joy when an outing to a Mexican restaurant is about to transpire. I will not even get into how felicity streams through her soul when she enters a movie theatre. The point is, she taught me to not wait around for grandiose adventures and miraculous happenings to find happiness, but to enjoy the gorgeous ride that life is.

            My mom is so beautiful, loving, patient, imperturbable and caring. She is truly a beacon of maternity love. Perhaps this is why I am still single (along with a litany of other things), I saw how blessed my father is to have found such a girl; I don’t want to settle for less. As Godfrey Winn in all his sagacity stated, “No man succeeds without a good woman behind him. Wife or mother, if it is both, he is twice blessed indeed.”