Many teen girls have nothing but disdain towards their "uncool" mothers. I am one of the proud minority who cannot say that about mine.
She has been there through all my trials and tribulations, ranging from something as major as a move to another state to an un-ironed shirt on a hurried Monday morning.
Somehow, my mother is always there, never letting me lose sight of my hopes and dreams.
This weekend, as attention turns to honoring mothers, I'm glad to say my mom and I enjoy each other's company. One reason I believe my mother and I are so close is because of our many moves throughout my childhood.
I clearly remember moving one March to a new state and my defiance at starting at a new school so close to the end of the year. It was my mother who decided to take on the task of home-schooling a sixth-grader for three months. During that time she found out she was pregnant - at the age of 40! Her morning sickness couldn't have made schooling me easy. Yet she worked hard to see me finish sixth grade.
There's also our shared sense of humor. I have never met a 45-year-old woman (sorry Mom, I had to reveal your age) who can crack jokes and respond with witty banter as quickly as she does. I get it from her, if anyone asks. My mom always seems to have twinkle in her eye, which only seems to grow when we laugh at her punch lines.
I couldn't praise my mother without mentioning her unbelievable matchmaking skills. I swear, I could not even try to count the number of teenage guys we pass that my mother comments, "Oh, he's cute," or, "Oh, Abby, marry him. He looks like a good boy."
Just a few days ago at the grocery store, I went over a few aisles to get Popsicles. When I came back, she was helping two college-age guys pick out dishwashing detergent for their new apartment.
We had seen them earlier in the store, and their cart was piled high with junk food. Mom came to the conclusion that the two were stocking up their first apartment and had no idea how to cook. The next thing I know, she jumped into her role and began offering advice on which brand of detergent would leave the dishes nice and clean. I'm surprised she didn't offer to drive them home and help unload their groceries.
This is not to say my mom and I don't have our share of fights. Sometimes she doesn't understand what I am going through. Life is very different now than it was in her day, to say the least. Still, even as she is dealing with tantrums (my brother), an angry adolescent (my other brother), and raging teenage hormones (courtesy of me) she displays nothing but patience and understanding.
As I sit up here in my room near midnight finishing this, I have one more thing to thank my mother for: curing my writer's block.
Mom, I am really going to miss you this fall. Thanks for inspiring me to march to the beat of my own drum (to use your words to describe me all these years). I love you!
ABBY OAKLEY IS A SENIOR AT LAKESIDE HIGH SCHOOL.
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