A Tribute To Mom /// and Business Partner

Monet's "The Artist's Garden at Vetheuil," 1880

Monet’s The Artist’s Garden at Vetheuil, 1880

I’ll never be able to give back everything that was given to me by my mom, but  I wish I could in some ways. I hope my children one day say the same of me.

I wish I could send her a note in her lunchbox every day saying  “I love you, have the best day ever.”

I wish I could go to her tennis matches, basketball games, and cross country meets even though I know she hates them.

I wish I could take her to the hospital every damn time she has strept throat.

I wish I could let her crawl into bed with me when she is scared.

I wish I could do these things, and many many more, because she did all these things for me.

My friends are starting to become mothers and I’m learning that this is what Motherhood (and parenthood in general) is: giving it all without getting much back. I hope though that I can give back some of the all-in love I had as a child now in our adult relationship.

I hope my mom knows she has someone on her team on the days when it seems like everyone else is on a different team.

I hope my mother can see me give my life away to my kids as she did for me.

I hope my husband and I can honor her in ways she has never been honored before.

I hope we can invite her over for dinner and feed her 1/1000 of the times she has fed me.

I hope Basil always gets excited when I tell her we are going to see her “Loppy.”

Happy Mother’s Day Mom! We love you so much. I love you so much.

Lunchbox Love Note
By Kenn Nesbitt

Inside my lunch
to my surprise
a perfect heart-shaped
love note lies.

The outside says,
“Will you be mine?”
and, “Will you be
my valentine?”

I take it out
and wonder who
would want to tell me
“I love you.”

Perhaps a girl
who’s much too shy
to hand it to me
eye to eye.

Or maybe it
was sweetly penned
in private by
a secret friend

Who found my lunchbox
sitting by
and slid the note in
on the sly.

Oh, I’d be thrilled
if it were Jo,
the cute one in
the second row.

Or could it be
from Jennifer?
Has she found out
I’m sweet on her?

My mind’s abuzz,
my shoulders tense.
I need no more
of this suspense.

My stomach lurching
in my throat,
I open up
my little note.

Then wham! as if
it were a bomb,
inside it reads,
“I love you—Mom.”



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