my mother is a survivor.
she is an authentically amazing person. to have her claim you as her own is to be blessed and to never know what it is like to be completely alone in this world. she will feed you. she will clothe you. she will give you shelter and make sure you keep a dollar in your pocket. nurturing others is her gift, though she has many. she doesn’t like it when i write about her. but today she’s my topic.
my mother does not shy away from hard truths. she does not pretend that cod liver oil can taste like lemon drops or that dog bites don’t hurt. she is pragmatic and hard working and does not allow the problems of life to take over her life or her will to make a brighter day. the day she told me she had breast cancer i thought the very floor of the earth had sunk in. but in her style she looked me in the eye and said with a shrug, ‘it ain’t nothing nobody wants to have but here it is and i’m going to do what i have to do to fight it.’
she treated cancer like the invader it was and banished it from her body through the methodical treatment of her medical team, prayer and a belief that no matter what life hands you, God will provide a way to see you through.
i love my mother.
i respect her as a woman, a provider, a motivator and survivor.
just so you know of the things she has fought in her life cancer was a minor opponent. she wouldn’t want me to tell you anymore than that because in truth its not your business. but boy i wish i could because in hearing her tale of survival and thriving in the midst of all kinds of odds it would give you some kind of pick me up and make you feel like you can do ‘it’ no matter what ‘it’ is.
maybe one day, some day she will let me write her story. until then i’ll keep it to myself always grateful that she and i were put together in this life. don’t know who i’d be without her. don’t know where i would have ended up had it not been for her determination to make everyplace i’ve ever laid my head, a home.
in her name i dedicate this week’s work.
the word is survival.