"You've Got Mail"

You’ve Got Mail.  Pammycakes, I’m sorry to say, but unlike the title of this blog post, you don’t have mail, at least not from me.  And, unfortunately, unlike the classic with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, a favorite of mine, you won’t hear the cool AOL sound when you get it (although that would be nifty if that started happening for actual mailboxes). 

Anyway, that is why I’m writing this blog post.  Think of it as my Mother’s Day Card to you, just with lots of other people reading over your shoulder.  I could list a dozen reasons why I didn’t send you a card (cards and then postage add up quickly, the people at the post office kind of scare me, I forgot, I don’t trust the South African mail system, blah, blah, blah).  In the end, excuses, excuses.  You know what they say about excuses?  “There is no such thing as a list of reasons.  There is either one sufficient reason or a list of excuses.” –Robert Brault.  In the end, there isn’t a reasonable explanation for me not sending you a card.  I should have, and I’m sorry.  It’s really the least I could have done after all that you’ve done and continue to do for me. 

This blog post is for you, Mom, and also to all of the other amazing mothers I know and cherish in my life: my oldest sister, Jeannine, Happy First Mother’s Day…Ben Burrito is extremely lucky to have you; my host mother, Maggie, who has helped me to feel more at home in South Africa and has taught me many tricks of the trade about living in a rural village; Sue Beddy, who constantly amazes me with the amount of love she has to share; my Aunt Barb who continues to support me in all of my endeavors; and the list goes on.

Pammycakes, think of this as my (less formal) ode to you.  For those of you who don’t like sappy readings, maybe this blog post isn’t for you.  Rating: extra-sappy, tissues may be needed. 

The Miley Cyrus song (yes, I’m a Miley fan), “Butterfly Fly Away” speaks volumes of my Mom when she sings:

You tuck me in,

Turn out the light

 kept me safe and sound at night

little girls depend on things like that

  Brushed my teeth and combed my hair

 had to drive me everywhere

you were always there when I looked back

You had to do it all alone

Make a living, make a home…

 

From the time that I was young, my Mom has taken on both roles: Mom and Dad.  It was always my Mom who did everything for my younger sister and me.  It was always my Mom who picked Erin and me up at Day Care.  I looked forward to the “clippity clop” of her high heels every day, ready to whisk us away in her Mommy mobile – the infamous green minivan.  I too wanted to be a business woman one day, so I could produce my own “clippity clop” noise.  Look at me now…no “clippity clop” going on in the dusty village roads.  The closest to “clippity clop” is the cows I pass on my way to school in the morning.  It was always my Mom who took us to soccer practice, and made cupcakes or brought orange slices for our teams after games.  It was always my Mom who made us soup when we didn’t feel well or bandaged our knee after a bad spill.  It was always my Mom who read us bedtime stories, being sure to skip the scary parts of Harry Potter, so we (cough, cough, Erny) could fall fast asleep.  And it was always my Mom who never complained when Erin or I would climb in during the middle of the night, frightened by a bad dream.  When my parents divorced, my Mom was our rock.  As she read us “Dinosaurs Divorce,” she assured us all would be okay, and she was right.

The wonder that is my Mom continued after childhood and into adolescence.  Obviously I was quite the angel…no, seriously, I was.  I still remember my Mom telling me the story of the birds and the bees.  She helped me through my awkward teenage stage of braces and pimples.  She helped me with my crazy hairstyles and she drove my friends and me from here to East Jabip.  With the unstoppable minivan, she took all of us to the movies and the mall, making sure that we stayed out of any real trouble.  She always encouraged Erin and me to have friends over, and our house was “the house.”  She would rather have us home, keeping her up until the wee hours of the morning watching movies, listening to terrible music, and giggling than being somewhere unsafe. 

Luckily, Pammycakes gained a sidekick.  Jack, now my Dad, whisked my Mom off her feet in, ironically?, a walking club.  No longer did she have to be both Mom and Dad.  She could focus all of her energy in being Super Mom, which she was already mastering quite well in my opinion, and hopefully save a bit of that energy for herself.  My Mom deserves the best, and she got it, finally.

Throughout high school, my Mom and Jack continued to be the most supportive parents any kid could ask for.  Cross Country Meets, Track Meets, day-long Winter Track meets, Award Ceremonies.  You name it, they were there.  Late nights of homework, school projects, proms (Erin had a million+ of these), summer jobs, fights with friends.  My Mom was always there, no matter what.  Heck, my parents even bought us cars!  Now that I think of it, this was probably more for them than for us so they didn’t have to keep driving us all over creation ;).  No matter the reason, I am still very appreciative of Babs and always will be.  Heck, my Mom listened to me rehearse my graduation speech more times than she’d like to remember.  Even when I flubbed on the actual speech, saying “sex-cessful” rather than “successful,” (I was presenting to my entire class and a football stadium full of people…) I was a star in her eyes.  When it came time to choose a university, a bit of a stressful time, both my Mom and Jack were there for me, encouraging me to choose the school I wanted, the school that would give me the best education.  

Fast-forward to Boston University, my university of choice.  Boston is about 6, 7 hours from my home.  That’s a door-to-door drive estimate.  (I did push the pedal to the metal on my way home senior year, clocking an impressive 5.5 hours.  I’m pretty sure I would’ve turned back and tried to stay if I didn’t drive that fast).  While this might not seem like a long distance, especially now that I’m a 16+ hour FLIGHT from home, back then it was pretty much unthinkable.  My Mom is my best friend.  We are very close, and I feel very lucky to have our relationship.  I tell her pretty much, okay, everything.  But then, I digress.  Being so far from home was not easy at first, mainly because I was so far from Pammycakes.  When I phoned my Mom and told her I was having trouble being far from home, she looked up transfer options and said whatever I needed to do, she’d be there for me.  Luckily, in the end, and as evidenced by my last blog post, I fell in love with my school and the city of Boston.  Still, despite the distance, Pammycakes was always there.  We spoke usually twice, sometimes three times a day (hey, there’s a lot to chat about!).  She and Jack came for my Freshman Parents’ Weekend, in which they both watched, terrified I’m sure, as I played in a Women’s Rugby Game (yes, I played Rugby for a little while).  For my 21^st birthday she drove the 6+ hour trip with my Aunt Barb just for the night to take me out for dinner and my first official drink.  For my 22^nd birthday she came for the weekend, and cooked a delicious ziti meal for my closest friends and me.  When I ran the Boston Marathon during my junior year, she organized it so my entire family could come and support Katie and me as we ran.  For the Scarlet Key Award Ceremony and graduation she and Jack went all out to give me an unforgettable weekend.  This doesn’t even count the odd weekends she would come to spend some quality time in Bean town.  This doesn’t even cover all of the train, bus and plane tickets she purchased for me to come home for holidays. 

The first time I mentioned the possibility of me doing the Peace Corps to my Mom was when I had my interview scheduled.  I didn’t want to fight or get anyone upset unless it was a real possibility.  Penciled into my day planner, I called my Mom.  I shouldn’t have been so apprehensive.  Like every other time in my life, Pammycakes was on my side (maybe a little less so than before knowing the distance and time commitment, and also concerned that maybe I had hit my head on something).  Nevertheless, my Mom and Jack have been my biggest supporters.  Whenever I have a bad day I know I can talk to my Mom and she’ll make me feel better.  Maybe I can’t crawl into bed with her like when I was younger, but I can speak with her on the phone right before bed, and sleep well having talked things over with her.  Whenever I have a great day I know I can share my joy with her, and know that she’ll genuinely share in that excitement.  Heck, she even flew the 16+ hour flight with my younger sister to see me!  I think we both realized we couldn’t go much longer with only letters, whatsapp, phone calls, and Skype.  My Mom treated Erin and me to an amazing vacation, a vacation that I will never forget.  She’s helped me get through my ups and downs during the Peace Corps.  She’s done this halfway around the world…

I know that as I look to the future, my Mom will be there for me.  That is the best, most heartwarming feeling in the world.  As excited as I am to be coming home soon, I’m also rather nervous.  I haven’t been home in over 2 years.  It will be a big change and quite the adjustment.  Knowing that I have family and friends, and Pammycakes to support me makes those fears diminish a bit.

Mom, thank you.  You are not only the best Mom a kid could ask for, but the best friend a girl could ask for.  You’ve helped me to grow into the person I am today.  You’ve taught me right from wrong.  You’ve taught me what really matters in life.  You’ve taught me how to be a lady.  You’ve taught me how to accessorize.  You’ve taught me to be proud of who I am and not to want to be someone different.  You’ve taught me to go after my dreams.  You’ve taught me the meaning of love and care.  I hope one day to be half the women that you are, Pammycakes.  I hope that one day I can do all for you that you’ve done for me.  If I could, I’d give you the moon and the stars.

Readers, tell the women in your life how much they mean to you.  Tell your Mom that you love her.  Thank her for all of the wonderful things she has done and continues to do for you.  Make everyday Mother’s Day.  Realize that not everyone is so lucky to have loving and supportive parents.

P.S. Pammycakes, a card is going in the mail.  I know it will be a tad late, but it’s really the least I can do.  I can’t wait to plant flowers with you next Mother’s Day!

Until then, Le Rata,

Meg :)