You bought me deodorant in the 5th grade, way before all the other kids were using it; I like to think maybe it was so I would smell nice for the boys. But I never faced the horror of smelling funky, even at a young age.
You taught me to wear nude underwear with white shorts, so I was never the girl that embarrassed herself with a polka-dot butt.
And when periods came, you made me my favorite meal, and rubbed my back while I silently cursed myself for being a woman.
Whenever I faced the ‘drama’ of my girlfriends, you never said a word, but rather sat there, and listened to me ramble for two hours, all while taking me out to lunch, and running errands.
When I decided to get those bangs in middle school, you didn’t tell me how bad they looked. And yes, I still thank you for this, because I got to learn that bangs are not a fashion statement, but a travesty, and a singular way to commit social suicide.
You taught me how to pack my own lunch, and the sneaky ways that you make the perfect lunch meat to cheese and bread ratio. And now in college, I can say that my sandwich making skills are superb.
And when it came time to do the laundry; I’ll always separate my lights from my darks.
You taught me how to be a lady- one who is fierce, unapologetic, and loving. That tough love and a mother’s love are separated by being a parent and being a mother. And you chose which role you’ll take on depending on my attitude that day.
You taught me that I DO need to layer my clothes when it’s cold out, and to cover my neck because it WILL be the way I get sick every winter.
These things you taught me, I can never forget. There is no one in the world who will be so knowing about anything and everything. You save me from myself, and all the dangerous ways that I will continue to judge myself so harshly. You are my voice of reason; and all these things you have taught me, keep me going, through every high and low in this life.
And in these reasons, you are the superhero. You have swooped in and nurtured me, taught me, and prepped me- for what you may ask?
For being a mother someday, and how I will teach my children these same lessons. I will make phenomenal lunches, and never suggest that my kids get bangs, I will buy scarves in a multitude of colors so that my kids will wear them, I will make favorite meals when they’re feeling poorly, I will listen without hesitation, and buy boring underwear choices, all while keeping them smelling clean.
May I always do right by you, and be half the woman, mother, parent, and teacher that you have been.
You are the greatest superhero, the greatest human, and the mother of all mothers. And there is no love like a mothers love.
And you have taught me these things.
Much Love, Miranda