Mom and I in February of this year
Mom's the one who taught me some of the most important things I hold onto in my life. Things like "Sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission" and "It's better to look good than to feel good." She taught me that things are not important, not compared to people. When we invest our time and money and emotions into people, we're making a good investment. When we invest our time and money and emotions into things, it really isn't worth it. So don't scream at a kid when they break something expensive on accident--after all, which one is worth more?
Mom is Irish, for the most part, and her temper shows it. Most of the time no one in our family is willing to play Risk with her because she gets a bit vicious. She'll deny it, but all of us agree. There's a slightly better chance of beating her in Euchre, because she hardly ever gets dealt decent cards. She believes that the seemingly inevitable farmer's hands that she gets dealt are most likely punishment for her sins.
"Small, but powerful" is a phrase we often use to describe her, and it becomes ever more appropriate as more and more of her children grow to tower over her. She wore glasses her whole life until a few years ago, when she decided that she didn't need them any more. Just a little frightening, but no one can convince Mom that she ought to wear glasses if she doesn't think she needs to. She's proud of her gray hairs, and says she's earned every one of them through the various trials of parenting seven of her own children plus the many more who call her "Mom."
She considers Angel her son, and therefore considers anyone in their mid to late twenties the same age as her own children. Never mind the fact that in reality her children span in age from 5 to 21. She likes jigsaw puzzles and Korean dramas, and has put up with all manner of drama from her children, every one of whom she describes as "high-strung." We aren't a laid-back family, and we haven't lived a laid-back life. I love my mom because she's always made it obvious that she loves being my mom, whether I'm in the depths of despair or the heights of delight. Because, I'm Anne of Green Gables, minus the red hair. And I've always wanted a mom who could be bad, but wouldn't. Or at least, most of the time wouldn't.
Mom and I, approximately 20 years ago.