Mother's day is coming up. And tonight my youngest son told me I am a good mom. I watched my daughter play soccer in a field of fading light. And still this evening I am haunted by all the mistakes I have made as a mom. Trust me there are plenty and some of them are doozies. If asked, my oldest would say I made them all with him. And he would be close to right. He was the first. Nine years between him and the "little ones". I was young, just sixteen, alone, scared and inexperienced. That excuses some of the mistakes. But not all of them. As mother's day approaches, I have doubts and second guesses about what went right and what went horribly wrong. They aren't all grown yet. Even the big grown up one isn't fully formed yet (although he would argue that he absolutely is). I hope I am around to see them and know that the important things stuck and the mistakes get to fade away into the fabric of our shared history. Because no matter what they may say, or do, I will love each one of them with every fiber of my being until I am no longer on this mortal coil. And whatever comes after, I will love them there too. While I didn't make history as the first mother ever to get everything right, I can at least take a smidge of solace that I haven't made the news for how horribly wrong it went along the way.
5 years ago
