When I went to nursing school to earn my second bachelors, I did an intense accelerated course. I didn’t have a history of being a great student but I had a newfound determination. My mom drove me to my interview to get into the program. We sat in the car, killing the last few minutes I had before I had to make what-felt-like a long walk up to the director’s office to determine the fate of what-felt-like the rest of my life. Picking up on not only my trepidation but also on my questioning of ability, she said: “they wouldn’t create a program that no one could pass. If others can do it, you can, too”. It may not sound like words from a prophet for anyone else, but it matched perfectly to where I was in life and was exactly what I needed to hear. It was the perspective that I needed, when I needed it. I earned straight A’s that year. It was the first time in my life anyone in my class looked at me as someone worth cheating off of.

When I had kids and went through all the phases of drowning that seem to be a part of the mothering learning curve, it was my mom who gently listened, never sugar-coated anything, but always comforted me. Still to this day she reminds me that “it’s all temporary”; the plates of food that get thrown to the floor, the bedwetting, the tantrums, the piercing screams, the entire year of raising a 4-year-old, the under-appreciation, the mess, the juggle, the hustle… all of it. I’ve contemplated her words so-much-so that I often think how life, itself, is temporary. It reminds me to embrace the moment; even if the moment is painful or challenging because it’s life — all of it. An integration of all the parts. And it’s all temporary. Every piece of it.

Not long ago I may have gone off on a family member’s political post. In a group text that’s become our daily quarantine social hour, my sister said “Mom, do you ever wonder where your feisty daughters came from?”. You see, my mom is reserved on the outside but may tear your head off if she lets you into her lair. Without hesitation, she answered, “Absolutely not. I raised you both to be independent thinkers and independent thinkers are always going to question everything”.

When I asked for a divorce I felt a certain degree of guilt and disappointment; my parents, afterall, had always made it work. I always thought of divorce as something reserved for others lesser than me, but never me. And yet, it was my mom who showed up to support me; To cry with me and reason things out with me. I always know I can trust her because sometimes her advice isn’t what I want to hear; she’s forever level-headed but leads by suggestion and never by demand. On the days that I feel like single motherhood is swallowing me whole, it’s my mom who shows up at my doorstep like a one-woman circus; to entertain the kids, wash the dishes, make dinner, fold the laundry, and lift my spirits.

Today is her birthday and there’s no one I’d rather celebrate today, and everyday. Happy birthday to a mama that shows me as much as she tells me, who always holds me accountable, who promotes free thinking and independence, urges me through and never around, and always has my back. I love you, mom.