Me Mum

"Don't write about me," Mom chides every time I write about her.

"Why did you write that?" she asks with frequency.

"Stop using cuss words when you write!" she scolds, "you're better than that!"

The thing about my Mother is she's never stopped trying to raise me.

A little perspective ... I'm turning 60 soon.

Mom doesn't care.

She's way too old to be raising me and like most Mothers, she should have given up by now.

There are two problems with my thinking.

First and foremost, my Mother seems to get younger with every passing year ... not older!

She does more than ever, has more friends, goes to more things, and has to work really hard to squeeze me into her social calendar because I'm blocked out by the multitudes who love her, making up reasons to drop by if she's home and excited when she opts to go out ... which is often.

I'm starting to worry about her.

Recently, she's started taking "selfies" and posting them on Facebook.

Maddie, our 14 year old who knows everything except the difference between a sink and a dishwasher, constantly takes selfies of herself.

It makes me worry about what my Mother is becoming.

Second, and I should know this by now, my Mother never ... EVER ... gives up!

She's reinvented herself more times than Michael Jackson, escaped more tragedy than Houdini, broken more glass ceilings for women than Gloria Steinem and outperformed every single man she ever worked for ... meaning she was paid more than them so they quit in anger but ... my Mom kept at it moving higher and higher up the professional landscape.

Mostly she loved my Dad, a seemingly impossible task, because my Father was something ... a giant of a heart with a teenager's soul, a great streak of bad luck surrounded with the best of friends and a sense of humor that could laugh at Hitler ... "Hey Der Furher! I know why you hate Golf ... you always finish in the Bunker."

Mom put up ... even encouraged ... him.

Not me.

I still get in trouble.

It's alright.

I love her to Hell and back.

She's going to get on to me for saying it that way.

It's alright.

I love you Mom.

Thank you for everything.

Happy Day!