my wonderful muhmoo!
Thank you for letting me make (and be) a mess. It's only knowing that you'd be there to pick me back up that I've gone and done some amazing and sometimes incredibly stupid things.
Thank you for letting me go to Strawderman for so many years. I know it wasn't easy to leave your baby but those 8-week sessions gave me a real sense of independence. (But I still loved the care packages!) And I'm really glad we didn't call you after my bad fall where they thought I might have broken my back.
Thanks for listening to the 8000 crying phone calls when I started boarding school. I know you were crying on the other end of the line but told me it'd all be fine. And you know what? It was.
Thank you for "tricking" me into going to Vandy. You knew, much better than I, that it was would be a perfect fit. And if you had ever suggested as such, I would have run screaming in the other direction. Going there made me a much better (and smarter!) person. Thank you.
I know you hate California, Muhmoo. But it's really not that bad. Thanks for letting me get a big jump on my career by moving here.
I love you very much my wonderful mother.
Please don't liquidate and move to Belize in protest.
If a monkey bites you and you contract Ebola, I will NOT forgive you. I don't care if you can drive a golf cart all day and yes, some of the people speak English and French.
No moving. Except by me.
Love, E.
3 comments:
Oh....well gosh. I made it this far through Mother's Day without so much as a sniffle. And now...! It's a lovely post, and you're a stellar writer. And having lived in every time zone in the country, I can attest to PDT not being as horrid as it might seem to your Muhmoo.
Thanks for the kind words. :) My mother is the epitome of a southern belle and just cannot deal with California "and the hippies." To quote my wonderful Muhmoo: "Everyone is allowed an irrational hatred. Mine is California. I will never go there again."
We're still working on getting her out here. I promised that LAX is better than it was in 1985, the last time she set foot in the West.
What a great post- love that first photo!
I always cry on the phone as soon as I hear my mom's voice (like when I first arrived in Oz). I;m sure I'll cry when I see her next week :)
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