I need you more than I ever thought I would at 41-years-old. I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay, even though you may not be so sure yourself how it’s going to end up. I need you to build me up and support me. I need you to tell me all those things you used to tell me about how strong I am, how special I am, and how smart I am. I need you to remind me where it is I come from.
I miss being able to call you and dump all life’s problems on you, so that you could minimize them all by making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts. I need you to make a crass remark or blurt out a curse word, so that I can marvel at how inappropriate my mother can be sometimes. I need you to say things like, “Who cares what people think?” because I know that’s how you went through your life… straight up the most confident and self-assured woman I’ve ever known.
I need you to tell me that you’re proud of me. I need you to tell me that you don’t feel like I gave up on you and that you understand that I have a life to run, with kids of my own and a husband who works overtime.
I need all of these things more than I can express to you.
I am frustrated at how much I still need you in my adult life, Mom. I am defeated at how I am still unable to just “put my big-girl pants on” and deal. Does this ever happen? Do we ever get big enough to not need our mamas? Because I feel like I need you as much as I did at 5-years-old.
I hope you still know I love you. I hope you know that I am grateful for the years of your life you gave loving me and raising me. Please know I am paying it forward and putting it all into my family and my kids every single moment of every single day, just as you did.
I hope you are proud. Even though you can’t say it, I certainly hope you feel it sometimes. Thank you, Mom, for all you’ve done for me. I know you’ve forgotten it all by now, but I never will.