Is there any more indelible bond in the world than that of a woman and her child? Is it possible for any more powerful a love to exist inside a human heart than the love that a mother has for her child? I could argue that I love my own children as much, or that my Dad loves me as much, but I’m pretty sure I’d lose the argument if I sat down with a group of mothers and tried my case.
Mothers are different. Even in the animal kingdom do mothers stand out. A snarling Grizzly bear you see on the Discovery Channel ferociously slapping something around or making a meal out of it generally makes me say, “Something made that guy mad…look at him!”
Mothers are different. Even in the animal kingdom do mothers stand out. A snarling Grizzly bear you see on the Discovery Channel ferociously slapping something around or making a meal out of it generally makes me say, “Something made that guy mad…look at him!”
Then the narrator will chime in with something like, “Phil and his fellow campers should have known better than to get too close to the cubs of a mother Grizzly bear, and they paid dearly for their ignorance, as she feasts on them like kabobs at a Sunday picnic.” The father grizzly bear is probably sleeping in a tree or scratching his butt on an old stump about three miles away while momma bear wipes her face clean with Phil’s tent. Nothing against Dads (mine or myself)...we just more than likely have a game to watch or some home improvement project to ruin.
My Mom is different than all other Moms…because she is mine. I make no claim to her being better, smarter, wiser, more protective or anything else than your Mom, but she is by virtue of the fact she’s my Mom. Anyone who makes the claim that their Mom is the best is right.
My Mom is different than all other Moms…because she is mine. I make no claim to her being better, smarter, wiser, more protective or anything else than your Mom, but she is by virtue of the fact she’s my Mom. Anyone who makes the claim that their Mom is the best is right.
It’s an argue-free zone.
If you believe you have the best Mom, you’re right. Tomorrow is April 20th and it’s her birthday. I can hardly believe that in August, when I turn 39, I will be the same age as my Mom... but she never lies and assures me that it’s true.
My Mom (and I share her with my brothers, but still, for this purpose she’s mine) taught me more about life than every textbook rolled up into one. She fought dragons for me when I was surrounded by them, rode in on a white horse and snatched from certain doom thirty or forty times and she loved me fully even when I made monstrous mistakes. Now this might sound a lot like your Mom…but it’s not. It’s mine.
Some people fight addiction, money troubles, relationship battles or physical woes as they grow older. Many Moms fight the battle of loneliness that my Mom fights. She has three boys, physically and mentally engineered to grow old and start a life without her…and we did. Two of us live kind of close, and one of us lives farther away. We rarely go home to see her, call almost as infrequently, and always kind of scratch our heads when we feel bad for being “absent” or “busy”, because we are busy and it causes us to be absent, and just what does she want from us? To drop everything, quit our jobs, get divorced and move back into the basement??!!!
Nope. Just a phone call. Just an email. Just an occasional drop-in for no reason. That’s all.
Alas, life is weird and difficult and hectic and fast paced and doesn’t slow down unless you tell it to. So, Mom, please know that on this day, I am going to concentrate on you the way I know you spend each of your days, thinking about, praying for and loving your boys.
You already know that we are sorry for being distant. You already know that we have kids and wives and jobs and responsibilities…you were here in our shoes once. We don’t need to explain it to you. We get it, and we recognize that a mother Grizzly bear would run twenty miles to catch up with her stray cub and swat Phil and his evil camping buddies into the next campground, even if the little cub hadn’t roared out to her or scratched a “hello” into a tree for her in months. She listens for him, instinctively know when he needs help, and would gladly go defend her boy, cuddle and clean him up and then hunt for and deliver him a hot meal. Then off he’d go again, wandering into the woods to become a man…
Thank you for being my Grizzly bear, Laney Keefe. Have a great birthday, know that we love you second most to how much you love us. Consider this, however far from an aged Aspen you may be, my “hello in the tree bark".
My Mom (and I share her with my brothers, but still, for this purpose she’s mine) taught me more about life than every textbook rolled up into one. She fought dragons for me when I was surrounded by them, rode in on a white horse and snatched from certain doom thirty or forty times and she loved me fully even when I made monstrous mistakes. Now this might sound a lot like your Mom…but it’s not. It’s mine.
Some people fight addiction, money troubles, relationship battles or physical woes as they grow older. Many Moms fight the battle of loneliness that my Mom fights. She has three boys, physically and mentally engineered to grow old and start a life without her…and we did. Two of us live kind of close, and one of us lives farther away. We rarely go home to see her, call almost as infrequently, and always kind of scratch our heads when we feel bad for being “absent” or “busy”, because we are busy and it causes us to be absent, and just what does she want from us? To drop everything, quit our jobs, get divorced and move back into the basement??!!!
Nope. Just a phone call. Just an email. Just an occasional drop-in for no reason. That’s all.
Alas, life is weird and difficult and hectic and fast paced and doesn’t slow down unless you tell it to. So, Mom, please know that on this day, I am going to concentrate on you the way I know you spend each of your days, thinking about, praying for and loving your boys.
You already know that we are sorry for being distant. You already know that we have kids and wives and jobs and responsibilities…you were here in our shoes once. We don’t need to explain it to you. We get it, and we recognize that a mother Grizzly bear would run twenty miles to catch up with her stray cub and swat Phil and his evil camping buddies into the next campground, even if the little cub hadn’t roared out to her or scratched a “hello” into a tree for her in months. She listens for him, instinctively know when he needs help, and would gladly go defend her boy, cuddle and clean him up and then hunt for and deliver him a hot meal. Then off he’d go again, wandering into the woods to become a man…
Thank you for being my Grizzly bear, Laney Keefe. Have a great birthday, know that we love you second most to how much you love us. Consider this, however far from an aged Aspen you may be, my “hello in the tree bark".
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