And, I’m blocking you on from my Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat. No more Skyping either. Texting, OUT. Email GONE.
I’ll promise no re-viewing episode #34 of #DailyVee with starstruck ME & @Garyvee if you promise to forgo Words with Friends (OK so you’re not addicted to this like I am Gary Vee viewing, but one day, you will be—and you should be, Mrs. Cross word QUEEN!), today.
For today its over. Today, let’s keep it real.
Remember the Mrs. Hoomadiggy incident? That was real–so we’re the roses I cut from her garden to give to you. The time when I had my tonsils out and you almost died because I almost died–ok a bit dramatic—but, REAL. The dog ripping my lip off must’ve been a doozy for you as I rounded the corner bloody in my big wheel–and the 50 lb vice on my head. That was a close one. Real, Real, Real.
Spelling bee winner, presidents physical fitness winner!? Had to throw in a happy moment or tw o that you sweated and earned–those were real, and not a Periscoper to be found in the house.
Santa’s lap—purple with fear. YEP, you survived that. A PERFECT Snapchat moment, NOT–but that day, Santa was almighty frightfully real.
You walking the farm with me in labor–Now THAT was real. Switching my hospital nursing-friendly nighty with a silk floor length number–that was real but many still wish it wasn’t. Thank god GoPro wasn’t around then.
So today let’s ride to church together and grab a bite on the deck afterwards. Oh and my pedicure from 6 weeks ago is chipping off, so let’s get our toes done and grab a movie later. Just you and me.
I figure if I let the girls go shopping all day with dad, while we play, maybe they’ll want to do the same with me when I’m 70, oops I mean 60.
Thanks for loving me through, in and around tech. This break up is gonna be hard, but the us time’s gonna be real. Let’s make it real. And while the goal is not tech for toady, let’s endeavor to keep it more real, more often. I’m all IN.
While you’ve given me many gifts over the years, beyond seeing me through the childhood battle scars and and the now, mostly faint memories, the most indelible in my mind are the words you gave to me at the wise old age of 8—“make sure you never rely on anyone to take care of you.”
Implicit in this—BE FINANCIALLY INDEPENDENT. No truer words have ever been spoken to a woman who chooses not to be a victim of discrimination, circumstances, wage gap, glass ceilings, geographic gender roles and one who aspires to achieve simply be a kick ass mom and a loving daughter. You gave me that.
And for all the travel and time away, you’ve said it before, but today and always, Home is the where your mom is. No matter where I am, you are always my HOME.
PS: Thanks for keeping it real when I was 8, and helping me keep it real toady. Oh, and for paying my out-of-state tuition for my Finance/Accounting degree; A surefire leg up on financial independence—Thanks, Mom. (I’ll tweet that tomorrow)