I’m Turning Into My Mother

This year, I failed to send my Mom a Mothers’ Day card.  Thursday rolled around, and I knew it wouldn’t get to her in time, so I didn’t even fake the funk.  I just didn’t send one.  Initially, I didn’t feel bad about it because I had already discussed her Mothers’ Day present with her, (we’re going to see a Broadway show) but as the holiday got closer, and I watched everyone gushing over their mothers on Facebook, I really started to feel bad.  My mom’s not good about getting cards in the mail on time either.  I guess I come by it honestly.

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This was taken in when we went to see “The Gin Game”, starring Cicely Tyson and James Earl Jones in November 2015.

As I get older, time seems to move faster, and it seems like at least twice a week, I see or hear my mother in me.  Sometimes it’s amusing, like when my hair acts the same difficult way as hers, but then sometimes, it’s annoying and just makes me silently shake my head in the apprehensive acknowledgement  that she’s been right all these years and I am just like her.

My Mom is a tough love kind of mom.  You can call her upset if you want to, but you better not be crying.  She’ll tell you she can’t understand what you’re saying and to call her back once you’ve stopped crying.  She certainly can’t help you through all of your loud sobbing and your tears aren’t going to make anything better.  Instantly, you can hear how your tears are frustrating her and making it more difficult than necessary for her to help you.  Mom is known to say, “Shut that noise up and tell me what’s wrong!”.

I’ve always been more of a comforting, “There, there.  It’s gonna be okay,” while I pat you on the back and try to decipher your words through your tears kind of person, but lately I’ve noticed Mom’s way of doing things creeping up on me.  A couple of weeks ago, I had a client who cried every time I met with him.  The first time it happened, I used comforting language to try to get him through this tough time.  The second time, I just sat and stared at him as he cried and waited for him to pull it together before I continued the conversation.  The last time, I said, “Look, I understand you have a tough decision to make, but those tears aren’t going to change anything.  Now pull it together so that I can answer your questions and help you make the best decision possible.”  It was as if the words completely bypassed the edit portion of my brain and as I heard them escape my mouth, I was shocked at how much I sounded like Mom.

So, Mom, while there are certainly plenty of very important life lessons and invaluable pieces of wisdom that you have imparted to me over the years, you should also know that it seems that little pieces of your personality were imbedded in me early on and are starting to surface in my later years.

Happy Mothers’ Day.

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