For my mother

So, this was written almost a decade ago now,
But holds true, maybe truer still, today.
I have been searching for a copy, and duh, of course my mother had it!

ODE TO MY MOTHER
You gave me life,
You gave me shape.
You gave me a sense of self,
And the ability to think.
You gave me courage,
And you gave me confidence...
In my self and my abilities.
You did all this and more,
Not through any extraordinary acts,
But just by being "my mom."

I did not always heed your advice,
Or care for your words...
I deemed them lectures.
I never appreciated or even noticed,
All those little things you did for me.
Little, at the time...
But today, looking back,
I know they were important,
And helped make me who I am now.

Mom, I don't say it often,
And I can never say it enough...
Thank You.
For being you and for being my mom.
Maybe not the best one in the world,
But certainly the best one under the circumstances.
The best one for the time, place, situation.

So, we didn't (still don't!) always get along.
You thought I was cheeky and disobedient.
And I thought you were interfering and didn't have a clue.
But today, I know something different.
You were the best you could be,
And I wish I had been the best I could have been.
I was not, maybe still am not.
But I am trying to do my best,
Make you proud.

You held me when I needed to be held.
Oftentimes before I knew it myself.
Even today, when many thousand miles,
A few continents, and years apart
Come between us...
You can tell,
And you rush to provide your comfort.

We no longer have the same relationship
That we did in my childhood.
We are more equals now...
I no longer listen and pout.
And you never lay down the law and insist.
I never come crying when I get hurt,
And you can't kiss and make my hurts better.

Yet, on those occasions when I still need solace,
And "my mum,"
You seem to know, and in spite of the distance,
You reach out to me...
Quietly and discreetly.
Knowing that a direct approach
Will make me turn away--
My "adult" persona rejecting.
So, instead, you pose a gentle question,
Asking and checking with me,
Rather than reproaching me,
For my foolishness and silliness.

You show me, with a short phone call,
That you know, you understand, you care,
Despite all the things in your own life.
And the barricades that my adult self
Feels obligated to put up.

You have proven, once again,
As you have time and time again,
Year in and year out...
That I am so very lucky to be able
To call you "MOM."