Lipreading Mom

Today is my 14th Mother’s Day as a mom and 41st as a daughter. It is an opportunity to acknowledge the role mom has played in my life.

Yet it is difficult to select a Mother’s Day card. Every pre-printed message exudes a sentiment that may not sincerely reflect how I feel about this day. I know that no mom is perfect, yet each card reads as if she is. Each mom eventually says or does something that is not perfect. In the heat of disciplining or arguing with a child, a mom may spout off words she eventually regrets.

As a daughter with a mom still living, I know that less-than-perfect words occasionally pop out. Stop texting me so much, Mom. I’m busy, Mom, I can’t be there.

As a parent with three kids under the same roof, my words can be far less than perfect. Not now, sweetheart, I’m working on a blog. Go ask your dad, give me five minutes, okay? Quit fighting, you two, or you’re gonna get it! Does your dad know what you did? Wait ’till he finds out.

And then there are those moments when not a single word seems perfect. Like when my best friend for thirty years (a mom of five) called to tell me last week that her beloved Granny died and that she would be flying back without her kids (because of the high airfare cost) for the funeral a day before Mother’s Day. ‘I feel like I’m really losing my own mom,’ she said. My words were an endless stream of ‘I’m sorry-I understand-You will be in my prayers-I’m so so sorry.’

I couldn’t be at the funeral because of distance and cost, although Granny was a special person to me. When I told my Mom, she said, ‘Your Dad and I will be there.’ Never mind that to get to the 10:00am funeral in north Texas, they would need to leave their rural Oklahoma house in the middle of the night and drive through high winds, potential flash floods, and storms that come with spring in Oklahoma. Mom and Dad made it to the funeral home with an hour and a half to spare.

When the funeral service was over, Mom walked over to my best friend of 30 years, hugged her and said, ‘I’m here for you.’

Those four words. Maybe they alone belong on a card or need to be spoken today.

Friend, I’m here for you.

Kids, I’m here for you.

Mom, I’m here for you.