An ode to my mom on her birthday

You might remember the ode I wrote to my dad on his birthday earlier this year. You best believe I wasn’t going to leave my favorite woman on God’s green earth from getting her own.

Truth is, I’ll probably cry as I write this.

Mom will probably cry as she reads this.

And then Gabe will have to hand us both tissue to wipe away the tears as we laugh at how predictable we are.

Mami, this one’s for you.

If you know her, you know her laughter.

If you know her, you know her hugs.

If you really know her, you know she knows no stranger.

Lately everywhere we go together, we run into someone you know.

The grocery store, the farmers market, the mall, you name it, you probably know someone there.

I’m the oldest of your “little ducks.” Your five little ducks.

There’s me, Nico, Caro, Sam, and Dan.

I inherited your hair, your hands, and your love of hosting.

I did not inherit your cooking skills or earth-shaking faith that gives you a direct line to Jesus. Your faith knows no bounds. You are my favorite prayer warrior.

For a while there, I never thought I’d want to be a mom. In fact, I remember telling you that I never wanted children sometime in high school.

You stopped me right in my tracks and responded with, “when you meet the man you love, you’ll change your mind.”

As always, you were right.

And now, all I want is to be like you.

To offer a love so deep that my children will never doubt they’re loved.

To offer trust so freely, that even when I know they may fail, they have me to turn to.

To be an open line of communication, so that when my children need a venting (or chisme, “CHIZ-meh,” gossip) session, they’ll call me first.

You have always been my biggest fan no matter what. You never missed what mattered, and you still don’t.

And now? Now we’re basically neighbors.

Living in the same town again with you at my side as I now begin to foster littles.

In the same way that you loved me, I know you’ll love them.

In the same way that you cared for me, I know you’ll care for them.

And when the sleepless nights hit, when I need an extra hand for dishes, or when I need a breather, I know you’ll care for me.

I will always be your first duckling. And you will always be my mami, no matter how old I may get or how many children I have, I’ll always be yours first.

You’re everything, mami, and thank you will never be enough.

For raising me to be who I am today, I owe so much to you.

Happy birthday to the woman who made me.

Go hug your mom, friends. I’ll be doing that the second I see mine today.