For Mom

Do you know the lady in this picture?  If you don't, you really should.  This lady is one of my heroes. And she's just as sparkly in person.

My mom and I wouldn't appear to have a ton in common.  She's a brunette and I'm blonde (ish.)  She loves rock concerts, and I'm a card-carrying choir nerd.  She is a classic extrovert, absolutely the life of every party, and I would much rather be home where people can't look at me and talk to me. She has an encyclopedic memory of grammar classes she took forty years ago, and I have trouble remembering even the last concept she herself tried to teach me.  She doesn't sweat the small stuff, and I sweat everything. 

And here's a big one: Mom's a convert and I'm a life-long member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  But here the dissimilarities begin to unravel, because Mom's faith formed my faith in its own image.  Her stories of answered prayers, tender mercies, and gospel principles in action were some of the first things I learned in this world.  She read scriptures and prayed with me.  She set an example of courage and commitment over and over again when her marriage was hard, or when finances were tight, or when she had hard pregnancies and miserable babies.  (No one's naming names here...Nikki.) When I was difficult as a teen, she forgave and loved me.  When I was difficult as an adult, she forgave and loved me again (last week.)

Funny that I learned most from her when she was having a hard time, but I guess that's good news to every parent who's struggling.  She's just as important to me now that I'm grown as she ever was back then.   She believes in me and is proud of me.  She comes to my rescue when I'm in over my head. She loves each one of my children and is genuinely interested in their lives.   And she makes me laugh so hard my forehead vein pops out.  I usually destroy the evidence, so there aren't many pictures, but you get the point:

Sometimes I show hope of becoming like my mom.  I'm learning to put the financial needs of the family ahead of my own selfish desires.  And although I'll never catch up with Mom's reading--she's read more classics than many Doctors of English Literature--I do love great books because of her.  I definitely got the writing bug from her, along with every single one of her eight kids.  And I do love to laugh, just like her.  As a kid, I once heard a friend repeat her mom's criticism of mine: "she laughs too much."  I remember thinking, "is there such a thing as laughing too much?"  Mom laughs not because her life is perfect, but because she knows the power of a cheerful heart to make life better. She's certainly made my life better.

So though I know we have both asked ourselves at some point whether I was switched at birth, in my heart I know the truth.  I am absolutely Cathy Monnett's daughter.  And glad of it.  Thank you Mom, for everything. 

Happy Mother's Day!