So, I’m just gonna pause for a moment here, and pay tribute to She Who Gave Birth To Me, in recognition of the
number redacted anniversary of her own grand entrance into this crazy little field trip we call “Life.”
Here’s to you, Mom, for dressing the wounds I sustained upon tying a bath towel around my neck and leaping from the top of the stairs because I saw Superman do it on TV.
Here’s to you, Mom, for fueling at a very early age my interests in books and reading for the sheer pleasure to be found if you just let the written word guide the way; it’s a gift I’ve treasured every day of my life.
Here’s to you, Mom, for blaming Dad instead of me when, as we were trying to move a new sofa-bed into the house, the bed came out of its mounting and knocked an antique pitcher and bowl off a nearby table, destroying it on impact.
Here’s to you, Mom, for teaching me that the things in life worth having are not easy to obtain, but that the rewards of perseverance are immeasurable.
Here’s to you, Mom, for not disowning me when, at the age of 16, I backed my truck too close to the side of the house and ripped off the power box, without even the courtesy of dying by electrocution in the process.
Here’s to you, Mom, for taking the woman who one day would become my wife, and treating her from the first minute like a second daughter.
Here’s to you, Mom, for taking that same woman aside, and teaching her very early on how not to put up with my bullshit.
Here’s to you, Mom, for being there when our children were born, doing everything you could to ease our transition into the incredible next chapters of our lives.
Here’s to you, Mom, for putting into motion from that first day your master plan to spoil your grandchildren and relish in the mischief they now pull on us, as justifiable retribution for the hell – however infrequent yet unforgettable it might’ve been – that my sister and I raised as kids.
Here’s to you, Mom, on your birthday. I hope you enjoy it, and many more.