Many Mother’s Days have come and gone, but I don’t feel I’ve done enough to show my appreciation. You’ve always protected me and kept me out of harm’s way. You’ve always made sure I had a roof over my head and food in my stomach. Though I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, you’ve never let me go to bed hungry. You’ve nursed me when I was ill and reprimanded me when I was naughty. But, you’ve never failed to cheer my accomplishments no matter how big or small.
Gee, I don’t know, Mom. You’ve done so much for me, and while Mother’s Day is a wonderful opportunity to pay tribute, one day out of the year isn’t enough to do you justice.
I was just sitting here thinking about you and decided I had to let you know just how much I truly love you. Actually, it goes much deeper than that. If I could take the air I breathe and turn it into words, then, that would explain how much I respect and honor you. I treasure your friendship. I value your wisdom. I admire your courage. But most of all, I cherish the warmth of your heart and your endless sacrifice for me, just so that I can be.
I don’t want to wait another year to pay you homage because as far as I’m concerned, every day is Mother’s Day.
A mother’s love is a soft peck on the cheek before you go to sleep at night. It’s your favorite bedtime story even if you do know the ending by heart. It’s an extra cookie when Mom’s pretending not to look. It’s a big bear hug when your best friend isn’t your best friend any more even though you’ve outgrown nursery rhymes, teddy bears and those silly old sleepovers. It’s a sweet lullaby when you’re feeling down. It’s patience when a kick in the butt is long overdue and silence when you know I need a good talking to. A mother’s love is irreplaceable, indescribable and immeasurable.
Mother’s Day is a glorious day! Each year, on this very day, the mood really hits me, and sometimes, I feel so wonderful, so at peace with myself. And, as the day wears on, I feel so beautiful, I mean really beautiful. I can’t help it. I just want to give me a great big ol’ hug. I want to pat myself on the back and just appreciate being me. Oftentimes, I actually get the urge to praise myself.
Sure! I know some consider this truly vain, conceited beyond belief. Come to think of it, these emotions do strike me as being anything but modest, so perhaps, I’d better take a moment to clarify my take on things.
Believe me, I am neither too vain nor conceited. I am simply filled with pride, self-esteem, and of course, a bit of bias toward myself. I thank the powers above every day for allowing me to be. And, although I rank myself high, I refuse to put myself on a pedestal.
Hmmmm. I guess all these things would be appropriate for someone as well read as I. But, to be honest, I can’t take the credit. There is someone more deserving than myself. And, that is the reason I transfer all of these feelings, these appraisals and high regards to someone who is far richer in gratitude, grace, talent, dignity and poise.
With this in mind, I have to reiterate that while Mother’s Day is a great way to honor Mommie Dearest, one day out of the year is not nearly enough to show appreciation for all the mothers and grandmothers, alike, the guardians of the torches that keep the fires of life burning in our souls through all the ups and downs and the growing pains as well as the little successes of life’s pageantry of campaigns.
Gee, I don’t know, Mom. You’ve done so much for me, and while Mother’s Day is a wonderful opportunity to pay tribute, one day out of the year isn’t enough to do you justice.
I was just sitting here thinking about you and decided I had to let you know just how much I truly love you. Actually, it goes much deeper than that. If I could take the air I breathe and turn it into words, then, that would explain how much I respect and honor you. I treasure your friendship. I value your wisdom. I admire your courage. But most of all, I cherish the warmth of your heart and your endless sacrifice for me, just so that I can be.
I don’t want to wait another year to pay you homage because as far as I’m concerned, every day is Mother’s Day.
A mother’s love is a soft peck on the cheek before you go to sleep at night. It’s your favorite bedtime story even if you do know the ending by heart. It’s an extra cookie when Mom’s pretending not to look. It’s a big bear hug when your best friend isn’t your best friend any more even though you’ve outgrown nursery rhymes, teddy bears and those silly old sleepovers. It’s a sweet lullaby when you’re feeling down. It’s patience when a kick in the butt is long overdue and silence when you know I need a good talking to. A mother’s love is irreplaceable, indescribable and immeasurable.
Mother’s Day is a glorious day! Each year, on this very day, the mood really hits me, and sometimes, I feel so wonderful, so at peace with myself. And, as the day wears on, I feel so beautiful, I mean really beautiful. I can’t help it. I just want to give me a great big ol’ hug. I want to pat myself on the back and just appreciate being me. Oftentimes, I actually get the urge to praise myself.
Sure! I know some consider this truly vain, conceited beyond belief. Come to think of it, these emotions do strike me as being anything but modest, so perhaps, I’d better take a moment to clarify my take on things.
Believe me, I am neither too vain nor conceited. I am simply filled with pride, self-esteem, and of course, a bit of bias toward myself. I thank the powers above every day for allowing me to be. And, although I rank myself high, I refuse to put myself on a pedestal.
Hmmmm. I guess all these things would be appropriate for someone as well read as I. But, to be honest, I can’t take the credit. There is someone more deserving than myself. And, that is the reason I transfer all of these feelings, these appraisals and high regards to someone who is far richer in gratitude, grace, talent, dignity and poise.
With this in mind, I have to reiterate that while Mother’s Day is a great way to honor Mommie Dearest, one day out of the year is not nearly enough to show appreciation for all the mothers and grandmothers, alike, the guardians of the torches that keep the fires of life burning in our souls through all the ups and downs and the growing pains as well as the little successes of life’s pageantry of campaigns.
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