I've told you about my early morning phone calls to my dad each day as I drive to work. What I haven't told you is that I make a similar phone call each afternoon as I drive home. I pick up my phone and call my mom.
My mom is an amazing person. She is remarkably talented and creative, even though she will modestly tell you she isn't. She makes beautiful quilts. I, on the other hand, can't sew on a button. She makes her Christmas cards by hand each year, while I usually take the easy way out and find the fastest way to send cards to my friends and family. She is extremely generous, giving of her time and her talents. She helped me decorate my classroom when I was a teacher, she frequently helps me with projects of my own, and she is always willing to stop what she's doing when I need her.
My mom is always willing to listen and offer her advice. She also knows when advice isn't what I need, and instead offers a listening ear. She is often the voice of reason in my head and the cheerleader I hear in my mind when I need some encouragement. When I'm having a bad day, she's the one I call, knowing she will offer her support and make me feel worthwhile again.
When I was teaching, she was the one I called for advice. Having taught for 29 years herself, she was full of wisdom and understanding. She frequently helped me grade papers, came up with ideas for lessons, and supported me when my job became overwhelming.
She may seem quiet and timid, but she is my fiercest supporter. She used to yell and scream at my sporting events, cheering me on and letting everyone in the crowd know she was my mom. There's no doubt she loves her kids and would do anything for them.
I love my mom and our afternoon conversations.
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