The following is written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
When I was a kid, we didn’t celebrate birthdays. However, we did have one tradition; my mom would sneak into my bedroom in the early morning hours of January 9th, crawl into bed with me and say, “Good Morning, pumpkin! It’s 5:52am and that’s my favorite minute of my favorite day because that’s the very moment that you came into the world and into my life. Happy Birthday, baby! I sure do love you, So-So.”
Even when I had long since moved away, I still got a pre-dawn wake up call on my birthday. Our relationship was never simple, it was fraught with turmoil and tension, but on my birthday it was easy. I would simply chat with my mom as the sun started to light my pocket of the world. As we talked she would always remind me that no matter what we had gone through, she loved me so very much and wanted all of my big dreams to come true.
I have now been a mom for a decade, the same amount of time that I have been motherless. Despite our problems, I miss my mom. I miss who she could have been and what our relationship may have been like had the monster of drug addiction not devoured her. I am fortunate that I have such golden glimpses of my mom’s magic and charm. I am glad that she still taught me to love big and loud and open. I am glad that through both the triumphs and tribulations, the rights and the wrongs, she taught me how to be a mama to my girl.
And, this year, for my daughter’s double digit birthday we were able to take her to a place that she has been asking to go for years – New York City. I was thankful that we were able to sightsee and try different foods and watch fireworks explode over the Statue of Liberty. It was a celebration that would have been unimaginable for me when I was her age and I am infinitely grateful that we were able to do it.
Last Friday, after a 4:00am wake up call and a full day of exploring New York, Conley put her head on my lap as we rode the subway. She was quickly and soundly asleep. Asleep to the point that her drool was running down my leg. It was as gross as it sounds, but Tony and I just laughed and let her sleep.
I was struck by the ease of how Conley and I folded into each other, how our angles match up and fit together, how our shared familiarity provides us both with infinite comfort. I realized that this was the one feeling I had been searching for all my life – the every day ease and comfort of mothers and daughters.
Food tastes better, the sky looks bluer, music sounds clearer and the sun shines brighter because of this magical, laughing, twinkling, stubborn, dancing, unbelievably kind-hearted, smart, swimming, strong-willed, painting, New York-loving, gap-toothed, special old soul of a brown eyed girl who stole my bruised heart, healed it all up and in the process transformed my life.
All my big dreams have come true, mama!
Soshally Awkward
Sosha Lewis is a writer whose work has been featured in The Washington Post, Huffington Post, MUTHA Magazine and The Charlotte Observer. She writes about her sometimes wild, sometimes hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking past filled with free-lunches, a grimy sports bar, a six foot tall Albino woman who tried to save her teenage soul, felonious, drug addicted parents, an imaginary friend named Blueberry and growing up nestled in the coal-dusted mountains of West Virginia.
She is blessed with you as her mom. She’s an impressive 10 year old!