All About My Mother

(Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with the Almodovar film of the same name. I just like the words. I actually think his films are freaking bananas.)

My mom reads my blog, and I'm beyond flattered.

Yesterday she sweetly offered to firebomb that stupid F train Dunkin Donuts kiosk for me (you like how I've managed to mention it three days in a row now?). That is true, unwavering parental love. Especially since now the government will surely be monitoring her emails. Nothing to fear, Men in Black. Don't you know she is most adorable lady on the planet? And don't fret, Mom, I went back to the Dunkin Donuts near my place. I paid 15 cents more, and got stared down by the wall-eyed zombie chick who works there, but at least my order was correct.

That's what makes my mother so amazing. She actually manages to do it all. I thought it was just a feminist urban legend, but it's true. Mom has class, grace, intelligence, strength, wit, joie de vivre, and a hearty dose of badassery to her name. She has conquered life in the military, both as a member (that's Commander Mom to you, plebians!) and a spouse. She's worked in academia (and lived to tell the tale). She's so beautiful the Navy used her picture on brochures to lure other women (and I'm sure some men too) into persuing a career.

Mom has raised two reasonably nice and decent looking children, survived heartache and devastating loss beyond description and still managed to be my ideal of what a woman should be. She has suffered while supporting others and always managed to come out the other side stronger for it. Mom is Athena. Mom is Audrey Hepburn. Mom is Dame Maggie Smith. Mom is like the Queen of England when she jumped out of that plane with Daniel Craig (which I'm pretty sure Mom would do if Dan asked her!) Mom has cheered me to victory, held me and let me cry when I failed. She has told me (on more than one occaison) to "get a grip" and managed to outdrink me and my best friends during our post-grad party at a bar by the Thames. That night it became clear they knew the big secret - Mom is cooler than I am! It is rare that we go out without running into some old friend or former colleague who adores her - it used to be a running gag - now I'm just sure my mom is secretly the most beloved person in the DC Metro area.

(Side Note: My AMAZING co-workers, Carrie and Lisa just brought me flowers at my desk for my birthday! I am speechless. Glowing. Happy. I'm so lucky to be able to work with such awesome, thoughtful, ladies. How cool are they?? Another very sweet co-worker just asked how old I'm turning and when I said 30 her eyes goggled and she said "Well you don't look it!")

Every child, but I think in particular every woman has a fascinating relationship with her mother. Watching my friends and their moms, I see incredibly loving and complex dynamics. I have a friend who since high school has casually drank and smoked cigarettes with her mom. They're European. Another has a deep bond punctuated by knock-down-drag-out screaming fights. Many love their mothers, but appreciate the space, both physical and emotional, that adulthood has put between them. And many...have lost their mothers, far too early. It reinforces the fact that those of us who can still turn to our moms should be incredibly grateful. We are lucky to have them with us.

Remember Cathy cartoons? I think I was the only eight year old who read that freaking comic strip. It wasn't even funny. I think I was just thrilled I could read. Obviously all the jokes about how hard it is to find a husband, and "Ack! I'm becoming my mother!!" went completely over my head. Hey, Cathy. You might have better luck finding a husband if you put your tongue back in your head and stopped sweating so much. Just a thought.

Do women really worry about becoming their mothers? It seems like of course we will adopt certain traits and characteristics of our parents! That's nature! And nurture! It's liberal arts studies condensed into one simple statement! I look like my mother (even though I'm taller) in many ways. We share many similar traits and mannerisms - we avoid confrontation, we do our best (which is sometimes too much) to try and help or protect the ones we love. We don't always say what we feel. But there are SO many great qualities I get from her that I am fortunate to have! If grow up to become one-eighth of the woman she is, I will be pleased.

I love you so much Mom. Thank you for your kindness, patience, and never-ending generosity of heart. Thank you for tough love, and gentle lessons. Thank you for teaching my to tweeze my eyebrows, though it hurt so goddamn much the first time. Thank you for never pressing me about my faith, my job, or when I'm going to get married. Thank you for letting me pursue a career in the arts, and always helping me try to figure out the next move. Thank you for being interested in all the stupid things I am up to. Thank you for understanding my rage when Dad got sick, and for helping to hold us together as a family during the tempestuous last four years. Thank you for being strong enough for all of us.