Every Mom Has A Choice

Even now.

At 57.

I recognize.

The things you did really well.

As my mama.


I hate to admit it.

But sometimes seeing someone else.

Not do this so well.

Causes me to appreciate.

That you did.

I don't know that I ever really thought about it before.

How important it was in my life.

Supporting me as I made my own choices.

And decisions.

 And live my life.

Without imposing your own opinions and fears.

Over me.



Looking back now.

Even at this point in my life.

I'm not sure I always appreciated.

Or realized.

That not everyone is given the same.



It was evident in hundreds of ways as a kid.

As I constantly rearranged my room.

And kept every kitten that came across my path.

You encouraged my love to "create."

To paint and draw.

And play football.

And ride motorcycles.



It was evident as I grew older.

And picked a college.

And wasn't made to feel guilty.

 About not coming home every weekend.

You encouraged me to fly on my very first trip to New York.

To leave home for a summer camp job.

And you never discouraged me.

When I changed my major three times in as many years.



You helped me get my first apartment.

And said yes to my wedding reception in your front yard.

When Scott and I got jobs and decided to move away.

I never remember you suggesting we stay close.


When my own kids came along.

You spent nights.

Helped.

And loved them.

And encouraged me as I became a mother myself.

Never suggesting that I mother a certain way.

Or your way.



Even as a grown woman.

I've continued to see.

Your encouragement to live my own life.

When very few people thought buying a shabby old house.

Would be a good idea.

(You agreed.)

But didn't discourage me.

When serving in Kenya became my heart's desire.

You still don't understand it.

But you don't discourage me.



Every mom.

Has a choice.

And I hope I continue to choose as wisely as you.

Give your children the freedom.

To be who they are.

To live their own life.

Free of the burden of your discouragement.

And your opinions.

Your manipulation and fears.

Free to live their lives.

You did that really well, mom.

And I pray I do it too.

I love you!