Thank You Mommy

There are many thank-less jobs out there. Soldiers, maintenance staff, hospitality…and really anything that has been on TLC’s Undercover Boss. However, there is a job than can be done in tandem with all of these careers, and it is by far one of the least appreciated vocations in society.

Motherhood.

Part of the reason why it is so difficult to thank our mothers for the work they do is because nearly aspect of our lives has been touched by them. 

Our mothers, whether biological or adopted, gave us our lives.

Do we thank our mother every time we grab a snack from the pantry? Do we thank our mother every time we read a text message or a book? Do we thank our mother when we actually show up to class on time? Do we thank our mother when we buy an outfit that makes us look damn good because we know what looks good on us? Do we thank our mother every time we make a new friend?

Maybe sometimes

But not every time.

How do we thank our mothers for everything they made possible for us?

Our mothers gave us our lives, and we thank them by living our lives to the fullest.

We can show our mothers that we did learn from that time she helped us walk across the playroom by walking across a graduation stage. We can show our mothers that we grew from that time we got in trouble for doing something stupid by making something out of ourselves. We all have been given lives worth living, and regardless of the hardships we each may face, we are all capable of living lives worth being proud of

We can grow up.

Parents recognize that we all have our starting places though. Some of us may have less money. Some of us may not be as coordinated as the other kids on the field. Some of us may have a harder time in school than others.

They gave us a starting line.

But they can’t define the finish line, not entirely.

My parents often told me that I could get anywhere if I worked hard enough and utilized my talents. I may not have been the best jazz dancer, but I could win awards in tap, so I developed in to the best tap dancer I could. I may not have been good at math, but I was great at science, so I became a Biology PhD student. I may not have been chosen to be captain or president, but I could help develop a community wherever I went.

I worked hard and I believed in myself because I was raised to do so.

Maybe some of my Dear Readers did not have the same experience. I understand that my parents are not the norm. However, I do know this: whatever joys and successes you may have in this life are a blessing to your parents. They are proud of you, and they feel joy when they see you grow and succeed. 

Regardless of how they represent it, your parents delight in who you are.

The person we become is our gift to them.

I have spoken a few times about my late ADHD diagnosis. With advances in medicine and diagnostic techniques, more and more women are being diagnosed. There are more parenting books out there, and more resources.

However, I do not believe that I needed my parents to look at me entirely through the lens of “my kid has a learning disability.” They gave me the same starting line as all of my siblings, and I soared to heights many would never believe possible, even for a “normal” kid.

You see, my parents did not treat me like I was different than any other kid in the family. Yes, they had to use different parenting techniques, but that was because they were good parents. They saw my issues, and they helped me develop in to the person I am today. 

I fell many times, but I believed in myself, in my work, in my parents, and in the lives that all of my siblings and I would lead some day.

Yes, treatment is important, but it is not everything.

No matter what, the child needs love and support. They need a starting line that they can confidently shoot off from. They need someone to be cheering from the stands when they want to turn back around. They need someone who can tell them, “we got you this far. Now you keep going.”

I danced and I danced. I studied and I studied. I loved and I loved. I ran and I ran and I ran with the life my mother gave me. I took each stumble as an opportunity to reorient myself. I heard her cheering from the starting line, even as I grew in to an adult.

I’m nowhere near the finish line.

But I know that when I get there, to the Gates of Heaven, my mother will be happy. I cannot thank her for each moment of this race that we call life, but I can thank her by taking the greatest journey I can. I can thank her by improving and growing.

Thank you mommy.

I love you.