I am your mother. I am here to hear you so that you’ll know that yours is a voice worthy of being heard. Don’t interrupt, but don’t let this world silence your roar. You are fierce and have a platform from which I hope you can heal some of the gaping wounds of this world.
I am here to embarrass you. I will dance in the car – and out of it, thank you very much – as often as I damn well please for as long as I am able. You don’t have to dance along… but some day you too may hear the joyful melody that is this life of ours and join me. I hope that this day comes sooner rather than later.
I am not here to please you – which is good, given that I so rarely do. I am here to guide you, to instill my values in you, to raise you above me.
I try my damnedest to help you learn from my mistakes. Don’t use my foibles as an excuse to justify your shortcomings. Use them to overcome your weaknesses. Please, learn from my errors of judgment and action. Dear God, please don’t make the same mistakes I have – make new and interesting ones; that way we’ll always have something to talk about.
I am here to love you unconditionally. I love you even on those days when I can do no right in your eyes, when you hate the fact that I breathe – too loudly for your liking in fact – I love you. When I see you as foolish, as wrong, as misguided, or materialistic – when you embody every trait I hate in myself and others… even on those days I still love you. Maybe not as much as I do at other times, but still I love you. I love you steadfastly and always and forever… always hopeful that you will grow into the awesome human being I see glimmers of every day of our life together.