My mother, Sandi, hates squirrels. This fact has become quite well known, as she's put it out there on Facebook in various posts. Why her detest of these cutest of rodents?
Her beloved gardens. Sandi's gardens are her pride and joy, and with due reason. When strangers pass her yard they ask, "Who does your gardening?" It's her - all her. My mother is the epitome of what can be accomplished when one takes their stress, frustrations, and loss of control and channel it into one their passions.
A relationship between mother and daughter can be tricky. In films we see this dynamic duo portrayed with either extreme love and friendship or the height of hatred. Sandi and I have gone through both. I'll fully admit I haven't been the easiest hija to raise, with the idea of flying off to Finland for three months at the age of sixteen, and all sorts of other adventures I did to drive my mom to the point of extinction. Having my brother and his friend bury me up to my neck in the sandbox in the back yard? Good times for us. My mom? Not so much.
Years of appreciation and understanding of my mom have led me to see her the person she is - not the mother. Sandi has a past, present, and future. Her struggles with my father and his leukemia and Alzheimer's are always at the forefront, causing her to make sacrifices that she never could have imagined. So often when thinking of mothers we consider them in relation to ourselves, as if the umbilical cord never detached and they owe us. As children, our mothers are there for us; they're not human. Emotions? A life? Did they have one? Are they people? Coming to the realization of the strengths and struggles of my own mother has opened my mind.
Long Point by Lake Champlain - Years Past
Sandi and I are united through blood but also a bondage of mother and daughter. I do know I somewhat torture her with my political rants, a lifestyle that consists of chaos, and snark that only I can deliver. Over the years, though, she knows that this is MausiGal - complete with three dogs, two cats, three fish. And I know she is the constant gardener, yelling at squirrels and banging on her kitchen window to scare them away, much like her father did years ago. Sandi has also been here for me during the lows and the highs, and those flat lines in-between.
Mother's Day is not about the raising of children. These twenty-four hours are meant as a reflection of the journey we have taken with the women in our life who have made us realize our greatest potential, the ability to grow, and the way to reflect and accept.
Sandi and I have the connection of Sammy the Squirrel, her "special friend" that visits her often. Smile on this Mother's Day - and every day. There are women out there who value you more than you could ever know. And Mom - I am your biggest fan! xoxo MausiGal
