I don't thank my Momma enough. I don't. She deserves so much more than one day a year on Mother's Day and a handful of other "thank you moments" that I toss her way.
Today I was thinking about how much she loves and serves me and how much she has done that over the span of my life.
I think about how many dirty dishes she has washed with her beautiful hands. How many times she has scraped dry spaghetti sauce off of dishes and the pictures she took of each of my siblings and I wearing spaghetti all over ourselves the first time we ate it. The pictures she took captured the joy of the moment, but then life continued on. She cleaned up the mighty mess we made on ourselves and the highchair that we sat in. She always helped clean us up.
I think about how many hundreds of times she has loaded laundry into the washer, added soap, and turned on the machine. How many times has she pressed start on our dryer? Yes, I do my own laundry now, but she has done laundry far longer than I. If it weren't for her, I would know nothing about doing laundry.
I also think about how much laundry she has folded. How many times did she fold towels alone before the different types of towels were assigned to my siblings and I to fold as part of our chores? How patiently did she teach us to fold our imperfect squares when we were young and roll the beach towels up nice and tight?
I think of all the times she has driven me places and how often she drives me still. I think of all the meals she has cooked for me and the way my taste buds know her cooking better than any other food in the world. I think of all the times she has soothed my tears, forgiven me, apologized when she has lost her temper, spoken truth when I needed it most, laughed with me, and listened. I think of the love of reading she passed on to me, the faith she has shared, and the love she has given. I think of her passion for her family and the times she has managed our home all while educating us and, in certain seasons, working part time. She is dear to me. And yet, I do not thank her enough. I try to thank her in word and in deed. I made her curtains last year for the kitchen and, at times, I have cleaned around the house without being asked, but those acts do not fully express my love.
I could save up my money to buy her fresh flowers every week and even that would not fully express my love and thanks.
So, dear, Momma, I don't thank you enough. I really don't. Today I dedicate this post to you and thank you. Thank you. You are a wonderful mother and I love you dearly.