mama

I graduated in May, yet this past summer was just as packed with growing pains as my years in college: a bonus semester, free of charge. In the span of a few months, I found myself in a new work environment, newly single, making new friends, and then moving to a new condo. I didn't have much time to stop and panic, so it is only in reflection that I am able to see how fluidly those changes transpired. As it turns out, when I'm strapped on time for over-analyzing, my instincts are remarkably reliable. This, my friends, is exciting news to me.

My monstrous move (So. Much. Furniture.) did provide a few moments of panic, but they were minor compared with my excitement. I actively participated in the purchase and design of a home, which, although time-consuming and stressful, was an awesome and creative project. I am also now living with my favorite person on the planet, my sister, Emily. I’ll go ahead and take this opportunity to share that she is coming with me on the trip. This was a last-minute, best-idea-ever decision.

I was prepared to travel alone, which was very empowering, but I am happy beyond belief to go on this pilgrimage with my sister. Emily is the perfect travel buddy. (And as I said to one person who seemed shocked at the amount of time we have now determined to spend together, “It’s a good thing we like each other’s company.”)
 

Another person who I adore, who has always been a rock through my life's transitions, is my mother. She patiently helped me to pack my apartment while I melodramatically declared that I wanted to throw away all of my earthly possessions. She stuck it out through the stressful period of box towers and feng shui furniture shifting, until we entered the fun phase of hanging pictures and cooking nice meals. The woman is truly a saint.

This last week, on the final day of decorating, she showed up ready to help us close the job, as if she hadn’t done enough already. This was maybe her 3^rd or 4^th night assisting us with “final touches.”

When I opened the downstairs door to let her into our building, my first thought was of what a beautiful person she is, inside and out. At 5’2” she is still a force of nature, a tiny woman with voluptuous hips and an angel-sweet smile. She was wearing an ethereal tie-dyed dress and had in her hand an electric drill box. Both Mother Goddess and Ruby the Riveter.

Once we were inside, she fastened her loose curls into a large clip covered in fuzzy yellow, pink, and purple balls. It was a Dr. Seuss sort of accessory and a childlike contrast to the aged silver hair she proudly grew long, despite protests she heard from her age-fearing peers. This is my mom in essence: she pulls off the appearance of being fun and eclectic (which she is, undoubtedly), but underneath her playful façade she is also a wise and feminine pillar of strength. Strong enough to grow her hair gray, to wield a power tool with ease, to set aside her own obligations for her those of her daughters without a second thought. 

At one point, after running to the hardware store for the umpteenth time, she smiled at me and said, “It makes me happy to help you. I’m doing this because it makes me feel good to help my girls.” My mom can come across as sort of a “people-pleaser,” a quality that I can not only relate to, but have often considered a weakness of my own character. Yet when my mom said that making us happy made her happy, she was helping me to see that there is nothing weak or self-sacrificial about going above and beyond for those you love. My mom gives of herself because it brings something into her life that makes her feel more complete. She's a nurturer through and through.

My mom has always empowered me to be true to myself and trust my instincts, but the lesson seems clearer when I witness her example. She pours herself into everything she does--including how she loves--because she is unapologetically herself. I am grateful for her example, but also for her channeling all that mother goddess love into helping me through the tougher transitions. The madness of moving is finally at a close with her undeniable assistance, and that leaves me with nothing to do but finish preparing for the trip. We leave in ten days....just enough time to wrap everything up (but definitely not enough time to stop and panic). Let the next phase begin.