Happy Thanksgiving

When I was young, I wanted to be a mom.

I never had the best example of a mother, as my own struggled with the demons in her mind for as long as I can remember, and succumbed to her depression when I was only sixteen.

But I do remember her snuggling my youngest brother, because he was her baby, and blinking “I love you” which was something that only the two of them would do.

I remember her pretending she loved video games so she could play with my middle brother.

I told my dad years ago that I enjoy, more than anything, cooking big meals on holidays, because I have such fond memories of mom shooing us all out of the kitchen and slaving over Martha Stewart worthy meals.

My dad informed me awhile ago that mom hated cooking holiday meals. She hated spending all day in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning, slaving away over the stove.

And now I realize that she did those things to teach me to be the mother I am. She showed me by example, even though she didn’t enjoy those tasks, the things I needed to be my own version of the best mom.

My mom fought depression her entire life. But she made sure to give us all, individually, the things she knew we needed to be our best selves.

She might not have been the best example of a mother, but she was perfect for me as she shaped me into the woman I am today.

As I get ready to spend the day in the kitchen, preparing food and baking (I made three pies last night), I am thankful she she instilled in me the desire to take care of my family with the little things.

I wish you were sitting at my table this year, Mom. Just as I wish every year. But I know you’re watching over me, and I hope you’re proud that I’m the mom you couldn’t always be.

I hope you all remember to be grateful, not just today, for the little things. I hope your table is full of memories and love, and I hope that it is that way every day.

Happy Thanksgiving.