My mom is the best. For a good part of my childhood, it was just me and her, in Orange County, a long way from our Kansas roots; she worked for Nestle and we had a one bedroom apartment that had a loft/study area which was what I called my bedroom. She took me to the movies almost every weekend growing up, always gave me thoughtful and/or amazing presents on holidays like Christmas or my birthday.
She drove me to my first punk shows, and got me a guitar and lessons when, in junior high, I realized I wanted to go from being a music lover to music maker(and she put up with my incessant wailing and practicing thereafter). She's funny, in an embarrass-your-son-regularly-in-public kind of way, and she is a damn smart person, to boot. I knew she was awesome back then...I remember the first time hearing my dad, who I only saw once or twice a year, saying I was a mama's boy. It stung a little but there was a part of me that said "Yeah, so what? She's dope." I didn't take it as an insult...still wouldn't.
The one thing she said about my dad that I never forgot was "Be thankful you didn't have to depend on him" and it's true, because he was in and out of my life, sort of wishy washy and not one that i'd get regular birthday cards or phone calls from. I never had to depend on him, though, because my mom had my back. Whether it was putting up with my wishes to go see some movie that I'm sure she'd rather pass on, or buying me new shoes for the basketball season, or throwing me rad sleepovers for my birthday. It was all her.
What makes this all the more remarkable to me, that level of not only love, but pure selflessness, is that I still am not sure how she pulled off most of my youth with her. What I mean is that she recently told me that back then, when we shared that apartment, she made less than I currently make at my day job. I do OK, for sure, but if I had a kid, I'd be scraping by on fumes...and she made LESS than I do. Everything went to me, and to my well being and my happiness. That blows my mind, and makes me realize how blessed I am to be a mama's boy. Specifically, MY mama's boy.
For her, on Mother's Day, it's always easy to talk about how much I love her, because it's true and no matter how much I ever espouse her greatness, I still don't come close to conveying just how great she was. Thanks, mom, for all you did for me, and for all the other moms out there that are doing it by yourself, when dad is long gone, keep it up. Your strength astounds me over and over again, and if I can have even just a tiny sliver of that devotion and caring in me, then I'd be a better man for it.
Happy mother's day.
Oh, and the Angels lost again to the Rays 3-1 and got swept for the series. The bats were nowhere to be found, again, and Nick Tropeano had 10 Ks(!!!!) but couldn't get past the sixth and gave up two homers. Andrelton Simmons was injured going after a ground ball, and didn't finish the game. He'll get an MRI tomorrow. Nothing more to see here, so I figured I'd use this space for more important matters and talk about moms. Here's to them, and hopefully you spent today doing some good stuff with the mom(s) in your life and not watching this garbage baseball game.
Awesome season so far, huh? /sarcasm