I am not embarrassed to admit it. I am a momma’s boy. And proud of it. It would be better if my mom was still available to me on Earth, but she is still inside me anyway.
That’s what makes moms everywhere so special. Rare is the human being that does not have mom imprinted through their very fiber, all of who they are. I lost my own mom to brain cancer when she was in her 50s, but the love that she instilled lives on through me, my three grown children and soon to be THIRTEEN grandchildren.
Luckily for me, I married during college and my wife, Sabrina, started to take on the Herculean task of taking care of me that my mom had mastered. And I was fortunate to adopt a mother-in-law that is still with us and has many of the same qualities.
But nobody can replace Mom.
Mom was a live wire. She had the biggest motor of anyone I ever knew, with the possible exception of her mother, who was just like her, except that Gramma lived to a ripe, old age. Both of them had boundless energy and a great sense of humor, qualities that I still respect in others to this day. Gramma grew up in a rural German Catholic environment and it helped her get through The Great Depression while raising my mom and the rest of her 10 children in Doylestown.
I never knew my grandpa, but he owned a lumber mill that he lost in the depression. Like my own dad, they worked seven days a week and the mothers basically had to be both Mom and Dad. Gramma was a bit of a tomboy and taught my mom to hunt and fish along with her brothers, Alfred and Carl. They also raised rabbits and did what they had to do to survive the lean years. Mom passed on the work ethic that she inherited to me as I did to mine. They established a lasting legacy, born out of necessity.
My children also inherited the love of nature and animals that I also picked up through my mom. That has always been my primary passion and I just wish my Mom could see the 260-acre horse farm I built over the years and all the little babies I have running around with their own moms.
One thing I know is that, even in the horse business, Moms are special. The babies all love their moms 100 percent as I did and almost everyone does. Moms are just special, period. End of story.
Once I was at a newspaper convention in Tucson and took my family to the mountains of Sedona for a little R and R. On my last day there, I rented a mountain bike and headed off by myself to the rocky trails. What a blast! But I also got blasted and smacked down on my funny bone once. I laid there amid the red rocks and prickly pear cactus checking to see if anything was broken. Then I broke out laughing at myself and at that moment a vision of my mom and Gramma popped into my head. They were also laughing at me, and with me. Laying on my back looking up into the mountains and the sunny sky, I realized that they will always be with me. The worries of everyday life suddenly vanished and I felt like a giant weight just dropped from my shoulders.
I got back on the bike and took off again on the treacherous but beautiful path (officially known as “Deadman’s Trail”). I set out that day wanting to spend some time alone but ended up spending it with Mom and Gramma. For the rest of the ride, it was a threesome with both of them in my head. I know that they were enjoying the nature with me. I wrecked a couple more times and skinned up my knee, causing the three of us to laugh and laugh some more. What a great way to end a vacation!
I hope you enjoy Mother’s Day with your own mom. Hopefully, she is still here to be with you physically. If not, just close your eyes and start laughing. The love will appear in your heart and you will not be alone anymore.
This week’s online poll question: Have you told your Mom you love her often enough?