Originally uploaded by KDUNK.
It's Mother's Day-the day you give thanks to that amazing woman in your life that wore all those scary, pre-stylish Liz Lange, 1973 maternity clothes when what she really wanted to wear were hipster denim low rider bell bottoms and cool floral tight fitting tops on dates with your father.
For the woman that experienced complete and utter pain to later be described as "a ring of fire" coming from her privates just to bring you into this world while you father whispered, "just try and relax" which in turn made her scream a line of profanity so horrific it can not even be typed here on the world wide web.
For the woman who hung tough after she asked her daughter how the first day of kindergarten was and her daughter said, "Ok. But I won't be going back thanks." An unfortunate foreshadowing for the years to come.
For the woman who told me not to ride a three-speed bike that was too big for me - not once...but twice which resulted in two trips to the dentist to fix my teeth in the very same day.
For the woman that came to every flute concert, field hockey game, school play, swim meet and dance lesson. For the woman that ran home once arriving at such events to retrieve my flute, my field hockey stick, my play costume, my bathing suit and my ballet shoes which I forget each and every time.
For the woman that bought me a nice sweater for my first date with a guy to the movies and I told her it was LAME and UGLY and instead put on my cream colored XXL Hard Rock Cafe Japan sweatshirt with the cuffs rolled up and a turquoise collar sticking out.
For the woman that remained calm after getting the call that I failed my gym credit freshman year because I 'got my belly button pierced' and refused to get in the pool because it might get infected.
For the woman that put on a fake smile and waved from our front porch as I loaded my sleeping bag into a red VW van full of hippies that I'd just met two weeks before who had plans to drive from Long Island to Jersey City (to pick up a friend) and then to Florida all in the next 36 hours in order to make a Phish concert.
For the woman that allowed me to get married at the age of twenty-three with no questions asked to someone I'd known for just a few months. For the woman that took the collect call four years later when things didn't work out.
For the woman who bought me all new bedding, plates, silverware, etc. when I essentially started my life over. For the woman that took my crying calls after the bookshelves I attempted to assemble on my own came crashing down. For the woman that sent me the book titled, Dare To Repair-A Do-It-Herself Guide to Fixing (Almost) Anything in the Home along with my very own toolbox.
For the woman that continues to try and understand me and I her. For the woman that despite our ups and downs continues to plow through this mother/daughter thing despite having a daughter that once uttered the words at the age of seven, "You're not my friend you're my mother!?"
Happy Mother's Day Mama.