Today is my mom’s birthday. She hates that picture, but I love it. (plus the “free layaway” sign is awkwardly photobombing it)
You know that person in the world that has the ability to drive you the most crazy, but also say exactly the right thing at the right them? I think that might be everyone’s mom.
Mine worries about me parking in the Target parking lot, traveling around the world, and that the cat has rabies. She is also the person I call when I just need to talk or catch up on family news or just not feel so alone driving in my car.
She – much to her regret now – taught me to be independent. And work hard, even if you’re the last person working. She put me to work as a kid sorting paperwork, handing out mail, and stapling stacks of handouts – something that serves me well in every job I’ve ever done.
My mom prays as she exercises, purposefully, for everyone in her family, trusting that God will take care of us when she can’t. Then she worries and calls and sometimes just needs to know that she’s loved and appreciated. Which she is.
Happy birthday, Mom.