Mothers Day

One day when I was five, the wicked ladies at school were doing Lice checks...that horrible time in every kids life where the lady with the purple fingernails combs through your hair, looking for bugs. And she found some in mine, and in front of the class she announced Sophia Libemday had headlice and would have to be sent home. I wanted to disappear. I remember one little girl asking if I had bugs in my head, I had no idea what Lice was, and I remember feeling so small and yucky. The teacher had me taken to the principles office, where they called my mum and said I would have to be sent home. I felt like I had done something horrible. How did I repent of this lice? ha. And then, since we lived right across the street from the elementary school, I packed up my little backpack, mustered up my little pride and trodded out the front doors, ashamed of myself. I remember wondering if I would get in trouble, or if my mum would be mad...and then I saw her waiting on the porch for me, and all at once a huge grin spread across my face, because I was so embarrassed, and at the same time I burst into tears and started sprinting towards that familiar, safe, mother of mine. I remember her giving me a hug and laughing at my tears, gently assuring me everything would be fine, this wasn't the end of my five year old world. And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt loved.
I remember a time in high school when I had to try out for a choir that was very hard to get in to. I had to sing in front of the choir director, all by myself. And I was so scared, like hands shaking, heart pounding, I'm going to throw up, scared. And I called my mom, and asked if she would be in the room during my audition. And she came.
And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt loved.
One day I was asked to sing the national anthem for an area wide track meet, and I was so scared. These hundreds of students who know me...would listen to my voice blast out of all these speakers all over the field. So I called my mum and asked, would she come? And she came and stood in that little office, overlooking the whole field. And I sang.
And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt loved.
On August 30th, 2005, John asked me to marry him. I said yes, and then I started to plan my wedding. I tried to pick colors, thought of themes, and flowers and details and details and details. I was so stressed out, and sure I would never be able to figure it all out. But then my mom went with me to pick out my wedding dress, to pick out the paper for my invitations, she took the reigns that were shaking in my hands.
And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt loved.
On May 23rd, 2006, at 3:45am, my water broke. I was in labor with my very first little girl. I was scared, and happy, and nervous and giddy and confused all at once. She met me at the hospital, stayed through all sixteen hours of labor and when the time came to push, she held my hand, spoke in that familiar, calm, reassuring voice that has become my lullaby,words that would give me strength...and two hours later she cried when Mailey Anne made her grand entrance into our lives.
And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt loved.
A year later, I was lying on the floor, in such severe pain I could not even move my hands. Mailey, nine months old, thought it was a fun game and was crawling and giggling and jumping on me while I tried to muffle screams. I finally crawled to my phone and...didn't even think to call 911, instead, I called my mum. That voice. As soon as she answered and I begged her to come, I knew I was okay. My mom was coming. I could hear that breathless worry in her voice, that barely controlled calm as she flew to my house, helped me stand, took me to the hospital and held my hand when they told me I was hemorrhaging and would lose the little baby I had just learned was there. She was there when they made me count to ten so that I would sleep and they could fix it...and when I woke up they said the baby was still there.
She was there when that baby was ready to come, but she was head up and so would be an emergency C-Section, and when my heart broke, she was there to hug me and wait for little Emry Adysson to be born.
And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt loved.
On April 17th, 2009, John and I were launched out of the spring conference, into Chico, California. When we finally moved in September, and my parents brought my girls to our new home, and had to finally say good bye. She started to cry, something I rarely see. And held my daughters close to her heart, where I so often found my own self when I was small.
And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt loved.
Today...I called my mum to wish her happy mothers day. And hearing that voice, that familiar calm, that gentle question in her hello that asked if I was okay...out poured all my pent up fears and sadness' at being here alone. My shortcomings as a mother, my deep deep, impossible void that was left when I left her and my sisters...out came my disappointments at a life so busy it forgets to enjoy things, out came everything...and she listened, and she spoke those calming reassurances that I needed so bad.
And I felt safe.
And I felt sure.
And I felt...loved.