Guest blogger

 A nice gift from my 17 year old son, R., that he read at our Unitarian church on Mother's Day. Thanks for indulging.
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So, I was going to stand up here and read something that someone else had written, a deep contemplative piece about caring for your mother, or a huge story about someone’s mother guiding them in the right direction. So naturally the first thing I did was ask my mom where she thought I could find such a thing. “What?! You’re reading something at the Mother’s Day service? If you truly love me, you’ll write something yourself.”

A few days later, I set out to write something.  After the first few seconds of not knowing what to write, I turned to the only source I trust for inspiration: my mom. This turned out to be a great idea (like it always is) because she did that classic motherly thing: gave me some tips and added “I’m sure whatever you write will be awesome.” To which I responded “Thhhaannkss moooommmm!”

This got me thinking about all the things my mom does for me. Although I don’t like to admit it, she might argue that there aren’t many things I do for myself. “Mom! Are you making lunch? No? …Well were you planning on it?” is a common phrase in our house. Whether I need help on my homework, or advice on how to talk to my boss about a raise, she’s got my back.

 My mother and I bond over things most people would consider unusual. We religiously listen to the same podcasts (this American life, Wire tap, The Moth), which enables us to speak a separate language that only we understand. “You know that guy who didn’t know he was black until he was 23?” my mom might ask me. Or I might off handedly mention the guy who gets stranded on an island just outside of New York City.  We always know exactly what the other one is talking about.

Another form of bonding takes place while at the dinner table. Each Monday night for the past 5-6 years, my mom and I have read the advice column in the newspaper aloud. Though the newspaper has changed, the tradition carries on.  Each week we complain about how nobody writing in that week has a legitimate problem. “I recently gave a wedding invitation to an old friend but now I’m not so sure I want them there,” one letter will read. “Is it okay to tell them that they are no longer invited?”  My mom and I will talk about how well mannered we are for knowing the answer to this question: No, you cannot uninvite guests.

It wasn’t until just a few years ago that I realized just how cool my mom really is. While other friends were asking their parents if they could go somewhere, I was just informing mine of my current whereabouts. “Your mom’s so chill” was and still is a common saying among my friends.

My mom has done so much for me over the years, and I just want all the mothers here to know that YES, we do appreciate it, and YES we do notice. So please, keep being awesome, and keep doing exactly what you do.