Mother’s day lands on the weekend of my birthday every year, and I have noticed that in the last few, I have planned the weekend for myself with a little time for you. That got me thinking, and in my thinking I realized there are more apologies I owe to you than just apologizing for not making your day as special as I should.
For Not Calling You When I Said I Would
When I went off to live in another city I swore I would call you every day. To make sure you were still as big a part of my life as you were when I left. Instead, I got caught up living with my friends, going on trips and forgot to call you to let you know how I was doing, and to check on how you were doing.
Then, when I spent a summer in another state I promised to call you every day. I knew you were worried about me, and that you needed to be reassured that I was okay. Instead, I got caught up in making new friends, exploring the new town I was living in and made our skype dates far and few between.
I remember you waking up at 5 am to talk to me when I called you, with the time difference being the last thing on my mind. You stayed up far too late waiting for me to call, and now I understand that I should have stopped what I was doing and stepped outside. I should have called to tell you all I was doing and let you know that I missed you. I remember that when I came home, after a summer that ended terribly, you were the only one who stuck by my side and helped me through it. Even though I didn’t call, you never forgot about me, and you never left me alone.
For Not Listening To Your Advice
So many times you gave me advice I ignored. About people, life and love. I got myself in several situations I wish would have never happened, that could have been avoided if I had listened to what you had to say. I hung out with people you told me were trouble, and when they drug me down with them you were there to pull me up.
For Not Having More Mom Dates With You
When I was little you took me everywhere with you. To get my nails painted when you got yours done, to get a soft serve when we had a sugar craving and even to the George Strait concert you had been waiting all your life to attend. As I got older I wish I would have taken you with me to the things I waited for all of my life, and shared those experiences with you. Not because I needed someone to take me, but because I wanted you to be with me. After all you have done for me, I am sorry for not doing more for you.
For Calling, You Mean When You Said No
I remember thinking you were so mean for all of the things you wouldn’t let me do. I was so mad at you for not letting me dye my hair purple or get my belly button pierced when I was 11. I thought you were trying to ruin my life when you wouldn’t let me go to drinking parties when I was in high school and was certain you were the worst parent ever for not letting my boyfriend sleep over. I hated that I couldn’t walk around downtown with my friends at night so we could teepee our teachers’ houses. Now, I can understand why you said no. Having purple hair would have looked horrible on me, and the people going to those parties got in some terrible car accidents. My friends who walked around downtown got put on probation for doing much more than throwing toilet paper at houses and that boyfriend I wanted to stay over turned out to be a total jackass. Now, I am grateful that you had rules and I am so sorry for making you feel like I hated you for making them.
For Growing Up
I have thought a lot about growing up with you, but I realize now that you also had to grow up with me. You had to go from playing with dolls to teaching me about makeup. You had to go from taking me to the movies to watching a boy take me on a date. You swapped giving me rides on your horse to watching me compete in a national competition, something you had to work for just as hard as I did. I have grown and changed, but you had to do it all with me, probably just as terrrified as I was. I want to let you know though it may have scared you, you always seemed strong to me. And I am sorry for not telling you more.
I love you, Mom.