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  • An Open Letter : Lessons from a Mother to her Son

    Dear Mom:

    You are a nuisance! You call just before I doze off demanding that I recant my every meal since last Thursday. Or, you describe in lengthy detail the subtle difference between Passion, Minx, and Fever, nail polish colors you’re considering, just as I step into rehearsal or work. You meddle, asking about my love life and remind me to find a partner who is kind, thoughtful, and who respects me. You harass me with ceaseless calls every four hours if I am sick or not feeling my best. And face it, you’re a bit of a stalker too! How do you manage to like all my Facebook posts and comments without missing a single one?

    I am completely and inescapably surrounded. I am prisoner of your thoughtful, selfless, beautiful, and perpetual love.

    There is not a day that I don’t think of you. Sometimes it’s before I get out of bed, sometimes while fastening my coat. Sometimes it’s when I’m choosing a salad dressing. Or, it’s when I feel small and the world becomes overpowering and consumes me from head to toe. With what you’ve shown me, with what you’ve given, and what your life has, in turn, exampled for me, I could publish an encyclopedia. But instead, today, I’ll share a handful of your reminders nearest to my heart:

    Don’t be too filtered. Say what you mean and mean what you say.
    It’s simple, but not always easy. Nonetheless, you’re still right. The shortest distance between points-- even matters of the head and the heart-- is often a straight line.
    Brush your teeth or you won’t have any friends.
    Was this your cunning design to ensure that I flossed and also participated in PE? Something’s working-- turns up, hygiene and friendship are more closely linked than I first imagined. I’m winning both races.

    You are patient. That’s going to come in handy… you’ll see.
    When I feel light years from the person I want to be. I remember, I used to go shopping with you. Life takes time.

    Everyone farts.
    Really, no joke. Everyone farts… Janet Jackson, the Care Bears, your teacher, Nancy Reagan, your friends, our neighbors, people in other countries, definitely that tall guy at the car wash-- we all fart… a lot.
    Have fun-- create joy, don’t ever wait for it.
    I remember when you’d sometimes break out into song at a supermarket or start dancing in the food court at the mall. I realize that was your way of showing me that happiness, joy, and spontaneity live inside me, to never pine for these things; but instead, to embrace my own versions and to simply let them out... like a fart.

    You are the sun above my head.
    I love you, beyond words and with every emotion.

    Happy Mother's Day baby.