My mom

My mom is amazing because of the transformation I’ve seen in her – I’ve seen her grow and forgive and adapt and survive and step into her freedom more and more.  She is a true woman of God, one whose journey started as a young girl and has taken her through life.  She knows her Lord, she understands how He works (as much as any human can) and she obeys His principles.

She’s smart. Like, sharp as a tack. She’s discerning and she knows people.  She knows me.  No one fools my mom, not even for a second.

She sacrificed a LOT for us.  I remember she would see something pretty when we were out shopping for our school clothes.  She’d pick the hanger off the rack and turn the item around once or twice, looking longingly at it.  I’d be like, “Get it, Mom!  You like it, it’s so pretty.”  And she’d quickly put it back on the rack and say “No, no.  Not right now.”  Now I know – she was saving that money for our clothes, our college, our meals.  She always went a little over the budget just to get us that one extra shirt, or just a little something extra at Christmas.  It makes me want to buy her everything beautiful thing she could ever want, but even if I could do that, I know she’d just tell me, “No, no.  Pay it forward.  Get something for Stehle.”

She’s not afraid to work hard.  She excels in her home and her job.  Her house is always welcoming and pretty and smelling good.  Her meals bring everyone to the table, with all the laughs and none of the fuss.  She still works full-time.  She knows how to persevere, knows where her reward is.

She’s right there with you.  She’s get’s it.  I don’t have to explain much, she just knows what I mean because she relates well with people.  She doesn’t make a fuss, she doesn’t go over the top, she knows when to listen to me and she knows when to tell me to listen to her.  And she’ll tell me, whether I want to hear it or not.  She’s not worried about tickling my ear.

She’s beautiful.  She’s little and curvy and has such a classy fashion sense. Her skin is gorgeous. I used to adore watching her put on her makeup. She was absolutely larger than life when she stood in front of her mirror, leaned over the counter and dramatized her eyes with colored-shadow and mascara.  To this day, I can imitate the way she quickly slicked color over her lips – I could even sketch the shape her lipstick eventually took on after she used it a few times. One of the coolest things that has happened to me so far in life is looking down at my lipstick one day and realizing that it had taken on that exact shape.

I still want to be like her.  I have to fight the little girl inside me that wants to curl up and sit under her approving gaze.  I love to feel loved by my mom.

Hey, Mom… thank you.