Today is a good day. No, I have not tackled any major running milestones. I haven’t had any amazing breakthroughs to share. Today it’s not about me at all, actually.
It’s about my Mom.
Today, she celebrates her birthday. It will be a quiet day, if I know her by now. Not much fan fare. Some phone calls from her family — son, daughter, in-laws, and all five grandkids. My grandmother will wish her well. There will be many a Facebook shout outs. And, of course, my Dad will have lots of love and birthday wishes for her on this day.
My Mom and I have had our ups and downs. As a teenager, I thrived on creating more downs than ups — an anomaly I’m sure to experience all for myself when my daughters hit those turbulent years.
However, we made it through. I’m not quite sure why she allowed me to live, to be perfectly honest, but here I sit, typing a note to her on her birthday.
Because of my Mom, I’ve learned that I can be a good mother and work full-time; family comes first; it’s OK to play hookie — if you’re spending time with your mom, of course; always have some emergency chocolate on hand; mutual respect is key to a solid marriage; when you’re feeling blue, shoe shopping can pull you back to the bright side; and, most recently, I can make some mean cornbread dressing, thanks to her.
My Mom recently retired as a neonatal nurse. She dedicated her life helping teeny tiny babies fight their way into living long, healthy lives. Nurses give and give and give all day. And now that I’m a working mom, I cannot imagine giving like that — 10- to 12-hours a day — then coming home and having anything left for my own family. But she did. And still does.
Wish I could be there to share in the quiet celebration, Mama. But know this: Me being there would pale in comparison to what next month’s belated birthday gift will bring you. After years of travel, and tri-state moves, and weeks away teaching, and days in hearings, and working late, and work-week stresses, and battling traffic — and pretty wicked potholes, from what I hear — you’ll get your partner all to yourself. My Dad will join you in retirement in less than a month’s time. I can’t imagine a better gift than enjoying the freedoms of retirement with my husband after years of kids, costs, and commuting.
Enjoy the day. Your day.
And enjoy retirement, you two crazy kids!
Running log below (sorry for the bad resolution; I will figure that out before my next post). I’ve added a few extra columns to try to make sense out of what I’m doing/will be doing. More on that next time…