An open letter to my mom

You were right.

Well, at least some of the time.



When you think about all of the stuff your mom said to you as a kid that just seemed incredible or downright ridiculous, it’s how funny so much of it actually was her telling you stuff you needed to know – even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear at the time.


If they’re really your friends, they wouldn’t treat you like that.

This is so incredibly true it hurts. I mean, it actually HURTS when you think about all of the time you wasted on people who were toxic, people who made you feel less than you really are, people who only had you around because it served some purpose in their life without providing similar return to you. I’m not saying that you should run your life like a game of “Survivor”, but it is really rather fantastic how many people I used to know that I just don’t even miss, because they just weren’t positive influences in my life. My best friend of 24 years is still my best friend, even though we haven’t lived in the same city for two decades, because even as much as our lives have changed and we have evolved in (sometimes different) directions, we still share mutual love, admiration, respect, and a belief that the other person is *important*.


Always GO before you go.

Parents of children really GET this. Case in point: I took ds up to the elementary school on his bike the other day; he biked and I walked. He played for maybe 10 minutes before he suddenly announced that he needed facilities that aren’t open on the weekends. While I give him high marks for being able to hold all bodily functions until we got home, I give myself poor marks for not having forced him into the bathroom before we left. Sure, the school isn’t too far from the house – but this is a rookie mistake. (Right up there with that time I forgot to bring diapers to a well visit when dd was still an infant; that’s a mistake that you only make ONCE.)


You can do better.

This applies just across the board. When I think about how things are going at work (extremely well, by the way), I wonder how much of it is luck. I’m sure there’s some karma involved, but some of it is just that I work very hard – and very efficiently – so that I can deliver at a level that meets or exceeds expectations. And I always, ALWAYS, assume I can do better…to the point where people accuse me of being humble when I shouldn’t be. There’s always room for improvement, whether it’s at work, or at home, or in the never-ending fight with my waistline. That’s not to say that I’m at the Marxian level of complaining that the capitalist system sets things up so one can never reach the divine; it’s that I think there’s always room for go beyond where you are. My pie crust could be homemade. I could rely less on boxed and frozen items when cooking during the workweek. I could be a size 8. She was right, though. I really interpret this NOW as “Celebrate when you succeed, and plan how next to exceed.”




So, Ema, the basic point is: you were right. And I’ve learned a lot in the 41 years I’ve been on the planet – but none more so than in the 7-1/2 years since dd made her first public appearance in the delivery room. But you were right.

At least some of the time.

One thought on “An open letter to my mom

  1. That must be someone else’s mother. I can’t believe that description as raising you was, well, shall we say, a challenge. On the other hand, you and dh have raised two most wonderful grandchildren.

    Thank you for an early Mother’s Day gift. Love you.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *