My mom was never one to say goofy things like, “Don’t run
with scissors in your hands,” or “Chew your food 20 times before you swallow!” No, my mom has always been fairly down to
earth. She’s one of the most humble
people I’ve ever known.
My mom started off as a California girl. She was born in Culver City and lived there
for a short time until she moved to Colorado, then eventually settled in New
Mexico. She met my dad in college. They married, had me and set roots down in
the small town of Tucumcari. A few years
later we moved to Albuquerque, and if not for a brief move to El Paso, it’s
safe to say that my mom is a true Albuquerque gal.
My mom taught me independence. She taught me, through example, how to
survive when no one else was around to help out. She taught me how to cook, do laundry, iron, and
maintain a clean house. She taught me
the importance of church. She taught me
how to love.
One of the things that I cherish the most about my mom is
her sensitivity to others. Like me, she
can be stubborn if she’s being pushed in a direction or path she doesn’t want
to head down, but all in all she loves with her whole heart.
One of the fondest memories I have of my mom was when I was
twelve years old. We had taken a family
inner tubing trip to the Sandia Mountains.
My brother and I were climbing up the hill as far as we could go, then
slide down as fast as possible. I came
up with the bright idea of daisy-chaining a group of us down the mountain. I took the lead, and with 7 others
interlocked together, we flew down the mountain with lightening speed. As we were coming close to the bottom we started
to veer to the right where a grove of trees sat. I stuck out my leg to stop us from running
into the tree, but the tree trunk was stronger and than my leg and it was my femur
that suffered during the impact. I can
remember blacking out briefly, then gently sliding down the rest of the way to
the bottom. My mom knew right away that
my leg was broken. I wanted to stand up
but she told me to lie there and wait for my dad to get the car. I’m not sure how they got me into the back
seat, but I do remember the ride to the hospital and my mom cradling my head
and reassuring me that everything was going to be all right. I also remember her talking with the doctor,
trying to figure out how bad the break was, how long I’d be in the hospital,
when could I have visitors, etc. I
stayed in the hospital for 30 days. During
that time she came to see me every day.
She brought me magazines to read, treats to share with my roommate, and
keep me up to date on everything that was going on outside the hospital.
When I was finally released and ready to go home I was put
in a body cast. I would be stuck in that
thing for six more weeks! When we got
home I found out that my mom had completely redecorated my room. She painted the walls, put up cool wallpaper,
rearranged the furniture and made it a special place to come home to. She really put a lot of effort into making
sure my homecoming was a joyous one.
You see, the thing I will always remember about my mom is
her compassion to do for others. She
lives selflessly, and asks little in return for all the love and support she
gives. My mom is not only one of the most
humble people I know, she’s also the strongest and the most independent. I blessed to have her as my mom. Her advice today is genuine and comes from
the heart. Thanks for always being
there, mom!
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