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Little Miss Momma: To MY Momma

Thursday, March 4, 2010

To MY Momma

Little Miss Momma {loves} her Momma

The night before Mr. B and I were married I walked into my Mom's room for a little bonding time on the last night we would be living under the same roof.  During this bitter sweet moment I presented her with this poem:

In elementary school, I think I had fifteen really good friends. In middle school, I had about ten. In the beginning of high school my true friends narrowed to about seven. Today, I can count my close friends on one hand. However, in all of my schooling and experiences I have had only one best friend through it all. She has been the reason I have made it this far. It is her loyalty and compassion that have built the foundation for the morals I live by today.

In kindergarten, you taught me to share. Don’t be selfish. It truly does feel better to give than receive.

In first grade, you introduced me to art. Finger paints and paper chains. Everything is beautiful if you take the time to notice.

In second grade, you demonstrated compassion. Not everyone in the world has a reason to smile so give him or her one. Give one stranger a compliment everyday. “You do your job so well”, to the school crossing guard. Or “You have such a nice smile”, to the boy sitting alone at lunch. You never know what one conversation can do for another’s life.

In third grade, you taught me that it was okay to fail. Winning is not everything. It is how we respond to failure or to disappointment that reflects our true character.

In fourth grade, you helped me shave my legs. Boys don’t like girls with more hair then them. They get jealous. Don’t waste your time with jealousy.

In fifth grade, you taught me about boys. Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, and don’t put up with those who are reckless with yours.

In sixth grade, you gave me support. It didn’t matter to you that I still wore a training bra and dressed in boys clothes. You saw what was within me and taught me to see what was within others. Ignore the surface…dig deeper. What really matters lies beneath the surface.

In seventh grade, you understood. You understood when I broke away from our bond. I was twelve going on thirteen and I knew everything. It doesn’t matter if you’re thirteen or one hundred and seven, no one ever knows everything.

In eighth grade, you forgave me. You showed me that forgiveness was the only way to dispose of the past. Forgiveness is wiping a clean slate and starting fresh. First forgive yourself, and than forgive those around. Only then can you travel the path towards happiness.

In ninth grade, you taught me that love can give a false impression. Love is not only passion and desire. Love extends to loyalty, support, comfort, friendship, patience, and trust.

In tenth grade, you taught me what sports are really all about. Soccer used to be about scoring the most goals, getting in the newspaper, and being the most valuable player. Today I know that soccer is not about any of those things. Now I can lead a team to victory without ever winning a game. I can play an entire season without ever scoring a goal or winning an award and still be proud of my performance. I can do this because you taught me that soccer is about leadership, setting an example, teaching, and growing as an individual.

In eleventh grade, you taught me to breathe. Take a deep breath, put down the homework, and enjoy life. Remember why we are here. It’s not to finish the history homework or English paper, it’s to live. Breathe, relax, and live. You never let me forget that.

In twelfth grade, I taught you not to worry (as much). I knew college would be rough, but I also knew that I would be okay because I had a best friend like you.

In my freshman year of college, you taught me the difference between a house and a home. They always say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Not until I moved away to school did I realize all the efforts you put into making our house a home. From dozens of flickering candles in the evenings, to the smell of baking cookies on Christmas, to the sound of Jackson Browne playing on the stereo when you were in a really good mood. You always made sure that our house was a place to come home to. Whether you realize it or not, these little things are the traditions that I look forward to passing on to my children.

In my second year of college, you taught me to let go. Just because you lose someone you love does not mean you have to forget them. Instead, let their memory inspire you to fulfill the goals and dreams you know they would have accomplished.

In my third year of college, you gave me the strength to find faith. Despite my stubbornness and pride, you continued to pray that I would learn the true meaning behind the words charity, hope, and faith. Your prayers led faith in my direction. It was only a matter of time before the faithfulness you instilled in me blossomed. When I told you that I had found an answer to your prayers, you supported me—as I knew you would.

In my fourth year of college, you taught me that growing up didn’t mean growing old. Graduated, married, working full-time, living on my didn’t matter…I could still progress and enjoy the silliness that life offered. Take in the little things—when you look back on your life 20 years down the line you’ll realize that the little things got you where you are today.

In the final days before my marriage, we have taught each other. We have both learned to appreciate the moments spent with those you love most. Whether it was belts and jewelry, the last cup of ice, or our stories after a long day of work—we both learned to share. As the wedding approaches, I know there are things I will miss. I’ll miss the early-morning sound of you opening my door to check if I’m awake. I’ll miss the smell of breakfast burritos on Saturdays. And I’ll miss our late night venting sessions and talks about life. Although I will only be a few miles away, I will greatly miss those simple moments we have grown so accustomed to sharing with one another. I know that much may change yet nothing will be different.

I want to thank you Mom. Thank you for your life lessons. Thank you for your hugs and kisses. Thank you for your blood, sweat, and tears. Thank you for your sacrifices. Thank you for you unconditional love and affection. Thank you for being the wind beneath my wings. And I thank God for you.

Little Miss Grandma with her Little Grandson
{4 years later}

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At March 5, 2010 at 10:32 AM , Blogger Additionsstyle said...

It's hard to put into words how beautiful your poem is. Thanks for sharing!

At March 5, 2010 at 5:40 PM , Blogger *~Jess~* said...

Ahhhh Ashley, that was awesome. I loved it. Thank you for sharing!

At March 5, 2010 at 11:35 PM , Blogger Poyer the Lawyer said...

This was so sweet, you've always had a way with words. I'm glad I could count myself among your true friends. :)

At April 23, 2010 at 12:15 PM , Blogger ~Mallory~ said...

Wow...this is amazing. I dont know you, but I feel the same way about my mom, you put me in tears reading this and thinking about my relationship with my mom. Beautiful!

At May 15, 2010 at 7:36 PM , Blogger luv4jack said...

Amazingly beautiful, this brought tears to my eyes. The gift of motherhood is such a blessing, how truly priceless it is that the gifts of life lessons our mothers gave us will be instilled in our own children. Thank you for putting this into words so perfectly.

At January 11, 2011 at 7:52 PM , Blogger Liberty said...

sniffle, sniffle...baaaaaah....tissue please

At May 15, 2011 at 1:10 PM , Blogger "Cottage By The Sea" said...

I don't know how I happen upon these things just exactly when I need them. You shared your sentiments so succinctly. I only hope my kids love me and remember me as you do yours. You have shared things in looking back, that will bring your mom so much fulfillment for the sacrifices she made and the love she has so obviously put in to being your mom. This was so beautifully expressed and executed. Thanks for sharing. She must be proud of you beyond measure.


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