(Picture taken by me with her fancy camera at the dog park)
I admire my mother for her extraordinary intelligence. My passion for reading can be directly attributed to her; I believe she gave me my first copy of Jane Eyre. She loves classic poetry and literature, especially Dickens, and moving to more modern works, Steinbeck. She's written her own poetry, and also has a talent for drawing and photography. And despite her affinity for the "artistic" world, she works all day with numbers and statistics, proving that she has a very logical side as well.
She is extremely creative, and some of my favorite childhood memories come from her fun activities for my brother and I. We bleached leaves so they were just see-through skeletons, she made a Humpty Dumpty doll out of a drained egg and paper, we made a tiny snowman while living in Reno and kept him in our freezer, and had many other mini-adventures with my mom.
When AJ and I were little, we liked to go to our parents' bedroom in the morning and hop in bed with them to cuddle. It was always a fight to get to be the one who cuddles with Mommy (but even then I was naturally very "feelings-conscious" and usually went straight for the middle, so that my dad wouldn't feel forgotten; my brother was much less aware).
I often tease my mom, saying that she's unfair because she gave all the GOOD genes to AJ (ie golden tan, perfectly straight teeth). But I'd like to think that I actually inherited a lot from her, such as my love for writing (I like to think I have a knack for it). Whether that was somehow genetically passed on, or is simply a result of her nurturing, I don't know, but either way, I'd say she has played a significant part in forming my interests and talents.
My mother, who speaks, reads, and writes English far better than most American-educated citizens, still has some quirky Filipino habits that make my family laugh. When speaking of people, she almost always reverses the gender (ex: speaking of "Johnny" and constantly referring to him as "her"), and still occasionally mispronouncing her share of words.
We have butted heads in the past because of her extremely logical nature versus my extremely emotional one. (When happy with me, my parents simply call me "tender-hearted"- when not so happy, the phrase of choice is "melodramatic".) Sometimes this has caused me to say that my mother lacks sympathy, that the way she expects me to "just deal with it" is cold. But I know this isn't true. My mom has a very kind heart that loves very deeply, but she has learned after surviving many very trying experiences in her life that the best way to deal with pain is to be strong, and not wallow in it. I hope to someday be as strong as her.
I love my mom. I love going out to sushi with her, I love watching our primetime soaps together, I love it when she sings (admittedly off-key) with Top-40 hits (shh- don't tell her, my brother and I make a point of trying to get her to STOP!), and so many more things that I didn't put in this blog.
I couldn't have asked for a better mommy :]
And I'm very grateful for her today, Mother's Day, and every other day of the year.
(Even if I don't always show it.)
