Mother Dear

It had happened.  My seventh grade boyfriend with the sparkling blue eyes and brace covered perfect teeth had kissed me.  For real.  I ran the entire nearly mile home.  As Shannon and I were chattering in hushed whispers about what it was like, and how long it lasted, suddenly mom was there.  Standing over us.   Busted.   I knew 16 was the legal kissing age.  She could have given me the speech right there, but at that moment she chose to sit down on the floor with us and ask why I hadn’t shared my happy news with her. 

This was the moment I knew my mother was safe.  She had always been an incredible mother, but as a confidant and a friend without judgment, I knew she would be there.  She knew that I knew my standards.  She had taught me well.   She also knew the gift of giving enough teenage space.  I don’t think she knew that day that I had stamped upon her the ‘safety label’ making her not only approachable in the future with bigger and scarier issues, but she created a trust that made me want to confide in her.  

I can only hope to follow my mom in her gentle loving footsteps in raising my own daughter.  Thank you mom.  

Happy Birthday.