My eyes meet hers and the instant I see tears collecting in the corner of each eye while she smiles and kisses me goodbye. I am seven years old again.
I'm seven saying goodbye for my first airplane ride by myself flying to see my Aunt and Uncle in San Diego.
In the same moment, as I give a quick kiss goodbye, as I turn and push the stroller down the jet way, it's like I'm thirteen again, going off on my first cross country flight alone to visit cousins in Cleveland.
I'm seventeen kissing goodbye before a month away at a Jewish summer school in Boston feeling like I might not be Jewish enough for the rest of them.
It's like I'm eighteen again, saying goodbye as my blond haired blue eyed tall and beautiful Mom with a capital M turns to leave campus for my first days "living on my own" at college.
Each goodbye so different, yet they all come flooding back in that same moment. Each time, the feelings hit me like a rogue wave as I feel totally unprepared for the emotional ride that is attached to those two little tears. Each time I'm ready to go to some new location or return to the home I've created with my own precious family. Then there they are, two little tears welling up in my own blue eyes and in an instant I'm smiling yet fighting back the unexpected tears, dealing with a giant lump in my throat.
As much as a mother and daughter may have their differences, there is nothing much like a kiss and a hug from someone who can read my emotions before I can. Those tears welling up in the corner of her eyes empathize with whatever emotion I have at the time. Nervous excitement at seven, complete nervous wreck and slight regret at seventeen, nostalgia at eighteen, and now tired anticipation at thirty three.
In an instant I am awash with appreciation for this woman who is so stoic and loving. I am flooded with emotions for this woman I have the honor to call my mother.
Happy Mothers day Mom. I love you more than the Whole Wide World (or as Micah says...all the way to the Puget Sound).
I'm seven saying goodbye for my first airplane ride by myself flying to see my Aunt and Uncle in San Diego.
In the same moment, as I give a quick kiss goodbye, as I turn and push the stroller down the jet way, it's like I'm thirteen again, going off on my first cross country flight alone to visit cousins in Cleveland.
I'm seventeen kissing goodbye before a month away at a Jewish summer school in Boston feeling like I might not be Jewish enough for the rest of them.
It's like I'm eighteen again, saying goodbye as my blond haired blue eyed tall and beautiful Mom with a capital M turns to leave campus for my first days "living on my own" at college.
Each goodbye so different, yet they all come flooding back in that same moment. Each time, the feelings hit me like a rogue wave as I feel totally unprepared for the emotional ride that is attached to those two little tears. Each time I'm ready to go to some new location or return to the home I've created with my own precious family. Then there they are, two little tears welling up in my own blue eyes and in an instant I'm smiling yet fighting back the unexpected tears, dealing with a giant lump in my throat.
As much as a mother and daughter may have their differences, there is nothing much like a kiss and a hug from someone who can read my emotions before I can. Those tears welling up in the corner of her eyes empathize with whatever emotion I have at the time. Nervous excitement at seven, complete nervous wreck and slight regret at seventeen, nostalgia at eighteen, and now tired anticipation at thirty three.
In an instant I am awash with appreciation for this woman who is so stoic and loving. I am flooded with emotions for this woman I have the honor to call my mother.
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