My mom didn't have the career dreams that some young women have. As a kid, she knew she wanted to be a mom--a huge job in an of it self and one she effortless done with grace and endless humor since 1976--but it isn't the kind of thing she's ever going to win public awards for or be given promotions, pay raises, or pats on the back.
My mom has worked my whole life, in a factory, at a make-up counter, and for the past twenty plus years, in an office at a pharmacy. The funny thing is, that's her work, it's how she makes a living, but it's not her passion. Her passion is, and has always been, my brother and I. Parenting us and loving us as though she were being evaluated by the great mom administration board in the sky, and she has never failed us. Not once.
Did we have a perfect childhood? No. No one does. Neither did she, neither did you, neither did anyone who has ever lived or will ever live. Perfection doesn't exist. But we always knew we were loved, we always knew she would hug us and tell us everything was going to be okay, when we were upset she would make us talk about it, she advocating literacy and rewarded us for helping her with chores by taking us to the library--the library! It's still a place I revere because it was never punishment, it was reward. And the being there wasn't the only reward, being there WITH HER was a huge part of it.
I get my love of reading from my mom, my desire to know more about things, my innate curiosity about the world, my appreciation of art and my passion for poetry. She is the reason I can recognize beauty in the world--she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
My mom's heart is bigger than other people's. She cares more, feels more, loves more than others, and i get that from her, too. It means being a little more sensitive than the rest of the population, but I don't mind at all, I want to love and care and feel and give at least as much as she does.
And in the past two years, when I have struggled so much personally, she hasn't always said what I wanted to hear, but she has always been willing to talk and she has loved me through every single moment of it. I know she loves me without hesitation or reservation, and that's a gift few of us ever get. We've been talking a lot lately about things I've learned in therapy, about her childhood and how it affected her and in turn how it affected my brother and I--she is never afraid to talk about this stuff. She wants to know me as much as I want to know her, she is fearless in her desire to be the best person she can be and that is, probably, the trait I admire most in her.
She knows we can all always be better, but that we are--right now--as perfect as we can be because we are trying, and that is the best any of us can do.
So Happy Birthday, Linda Kathleen Humbarger Draper. I love you more every day. This one's for you:
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