Dear Moe, Moe and Shirley
I wanted to take a minute (or 96) to tell you some things that you might not know about me…
For instance you may or may not know that I’ve never, really been able to see you clearly when you’re performing on stage; whether it be a band concert, jazz concert, chorus concert or play. Oh! I’ve spent every minute of those performances staring at you with jaw-dropping awe. I’ve sat mesmerized by the beautiful music you create with an instrument or your voice and I’ve mastered the art of believing you are the only being up there on that stage… but, in all these years, through all those performances, I’ve never had a clear view of you simply because of the way the lights bounce off my tears…
And you probably don’t know that even though I absolutely loathe the stacks of newspapers that seem to cover every inch of our house – I stop every now and again to look through a random edition; searching for whatever it was that made me keep it. I read of your past accomplishments in the classroom or on the sports field and then I look around in sheer wonderment that there are so many papers; so many accomplishments.
I’m pretty sure you don’t know that I can tell which of you is walking down the stairs in the morning. As to how I know? Well… I’ve spent every morning of your lives listening for those footsteps; listening and waiting because no matter how short the sleep was – it was too long and I know that with just a glimpse of each of your beautiful faces, my day is full of hope. Now… I’m not gonna lie… I’m usually over all the warm and fuzzies at about the 7 minute mark BUT! Every morning for 17 years I’ve eagerly listened for your feet on those stairs…
I assume you don’t know that, while you think I’m a strong person, I’m actually very weak and you are the reason why… I’ve always said being a parent makes a person incredibly vulnerable and I’m no exception. When you hurt or fear or worry and I can’t fix it – whether I actually can’t fix it or because I won’t– it breaks me. I cry when you cry, I worry when you worry and I live in constant fear that unhappiness will find you….
I’m sure you think you know why I’m always picking on you and sharing so many stories about our screw ups… it’s not just to get laughs (although you nubs do some incredibly goofy shiz) it’s because I want people to know that our perfect family is the product of our imperfections. There is no perfect person but people can be perfect for each other; and my sweet babies…you are perfect for me, I wouldn’t be who I am without each of you.
Another thing you should know about me… I love your dad every bit as much as he loves me (and because I have that crazy, competitive nature .. I’m going to make this claim: I might just love him more). I know it seems like he loves me more or better but… it’s how we work. Your dad is the kind of person who likes to do for people; he feels best when he’s helping somebody or taking care of somebody, so… I let him take care of me. Love doesn’t have a clear-cut definition; sometimes loving your soul mate means letting them be their best.
You probably didn’t know that I’ve missed quite a bit of important stuff on the stage, court, field, etc. because I was busy watching you interact with your friends in the stands. Will you ever know what it does to my heart to see you laughing and having fun with your friends? I’ve sat captivated by your interactions; yearning to have those days back and so very grateful that you are making the most of them. I’m lucky enough to know your friends and their families so I can relax and soak in your smiles and laughter; content in knowing you have such a great support network (and while this sounds really pleasant and delightful – you need to know I sometimes miss YOUR big play because I’m watching one of your siblings… scroll up – I already admitted none of us is perfect…).
I wonder if you know that you are “my people” (and not just because I own you)… I always seem to laugh longer when I’m with you and I smile more; I definitely dread the end of any outing with you guys and I just love my life harder when you’re with me… you give me all the feels – all the good feels.
Did you know I use a façade of cynicism and humor to mask the depth of my love for you?
ok, ok…. but do you know why?
Truth is…. I don’t think I even know why. Maybe I want to keep that love between us; it’s ours and ours alone (’cause I think I’m fairly generous with my heart… I just don’t put it out there for the public to see). Maybe I’m afraid for people to know how utterly smitten I am with each of you because then they could use it against me – like some kind of Liam Neeson made-for-tv movie or something (please – I implore you… if I’m not around for the movie, settle for no less than Beyonce to play me. She might balk on the tv-movie aspect… do whatcha gotta do).
I don’t know why I joke and pick and act like an 80-year old grump ass man about you… I guess because I’m not sure anybody would believe me if I only talked about the good stuff. I hope you never question my intentions – I never intend for you to look bad; I intend for you to look human… because nobody would believe the perfection that is each and every one of you.
And the last thing you need to know is: I spend every single day of my life, every hour, every minute, every breath… being proud of you. You are all intelligent, gifted, kind-hearted people and I am the luckiest person in the world to be your momma. Thank you for loving me and for being better than I ever have been. I will love you with my entire soul for eternity or until the Sabres win the Stanley Cup, whichever takes longer….
Happy Mother’s Day to the very people who enable me to join in the celebration; you have made mothering easy, fun and rewarding and I’ll spend my entire life earning your love…
Always,
Momma
