Turning into Our Mammas

I only work this year on MWF which is such a blessing.  Being a single mom with two houses to keep up with (one of which I finally sold praise Jesus and the other that is a little fixer upper), it has been my saving grace to have two days a week while the kids are in school to take care of my houses, my errands, and the seemingly endless paperwork of keeping up with my recently divorced life.  Lordy.  And another of the perks of TTh of is that I am able to shower in the morning, put on fresh jammies, and take my kids to school with no makeup on.  **Cue the heavens opening and angels singing.**  It is such a luxury that I took for granted to be able to take my kids to school and NOT have to go to work afterward!!  So anyway.....today as I was driving to Jack's school, in such a bad mood I should add, I looked down at the coffee cup in my hand and had a flashback kinda memory.  My mind jumped back over 20 years and I saw myself in the passenger seat of my mom's 1991 white Ford explorer, looking at the coffee cup in her hand.  You see, when I drive, I hold my cup just like my mamma does when she drives.  By the cup, not the handle, fingers through the opening between the cup and the handle.  In fact, I am so committed to the way I hold my cup that I don't use the cups I own that get super hot when you fill them.  If you need to hold it by the handle to keep yourself from getting burned, it ends up banished to the back of my cabinet for life with it's other heat conducting friends.

So today, as I had the flashback of riding shotgun to school with my mom, I realized just how much I am like her on my TTh morning drives to school.  Right hand holding the cup, left hand on the wheel.  Not driving with two hands the entire way to school.  Hair pulled back in a headband.  Wearing an old, soft, comfy tshirt.  Making my kid's eyes roll as I sing along obnoxiously to the radio.  When I would ride with my mom I would study her (apparently, because my memory of these drives is so sharp it's like they happened yesterday).  My hands look a lot like hers, thin with visible veins.  Her nails were always filed so neatly and rounded at the tip.  She wore shorts a lot on these drives, and I can remember the freckles she has on her thigh abover her knee and how her right claf looked as contracted and relaxed so she could put pressure on the gas and brake.  The tiny holes in the white tshirt she would sometimes wear, or how the letters in the words "Dallas Cowboys" were beginning to fade on another.  And I remember being so impressed that every single day she could drive with a steaming cup and never ever spill a thing.

My sweet mamma and I are really different.  She's more introverted than I am, and is content being by herself.  I love being around people and start to get a little loopy if I spend too much time alone in my head.  She is quiet and reserved while I am loud and opinionated.  I am a perfectionist and a performer and she is neither of those things.  I love to be on the go and she would much rather have peace and stillness and quiet.

But we're also a lot the same.  She is very loving and patient and so am I.  She will sit and listen and talk with you about your problems for hours because she truly cares about you.....and I do the same thing.  She has a dorky sense of humor that I have inherited.  We both love to read.  She is the most empathetic and sympathetic woman I know.  My mother can step with you into your pain and walk with you through it.  She will take on your pain as her own so you don't have to be there by yourself.  We are both good judges of character and don't put up with crap from anybody.  But for the most part we're very tactful about it and try not to hurt your feelings. :) And we are both women that forgive, but do not forget.  If you wrong us or hurt us, we will remember it for the rest of our lives and won't let you be in a position to do it again.  We are strong and take care of ourselves.  We are very caring and kind, and because of that we are also tenderhearted.

During my school run today as I thought about my mamma this song came on the radio, and the chorus made me tear up thinking of her.

As I get older, I am more like my mom than I am different than her.  And I could't be more proud of that.