Just Rememberin'...

Last night was Thanksgiving. I hope everyone had a decent time feasting. I know I did. Being with family, we tend to talk about family and this was no exception. My mother was brought up when we were talking about different foods. She made THE BEST gyosa, or potstickers as some people would call them, EVER. I mean, these were to die for. Everyone in the family loved them. But, this entry isn't about my mom's gyosa.

It's about my mom.

My mom passed away over 10 years ago but there isn't a day or two that goes by that I don't think of her. You can call me a momma's boy all you want, I don't care. She raised me when my father was out getting drunk. She took care of me when my father couldn't be bothered with thinking about his family. My mother protected me when my father got beligerent from being drunk. I'm proud of being a momma's boy.

In my life, I never knew anyone as strong as my mother. My mother was brave, leaving her home country for a new life. She was strong as she put up with a man who didn't love her in a relationship held together only by her love for her son. She was tolerant because she put up with a son who took her for granted. She was tough because, in the face of adversity, she left all she knew to regain a semblence of something she lost so long ago.

All I have of my mom are a box of photographs, a few trinkets and a lot of memories. Many good but many bad. A lifetime of regret has made me part of who I am today. As I sit here remembering her, picturing the images I have of her and looking back to only what I can speculate was her youth that she never told me about, I am humbled and awed by the shear strength my mother possessed. The rock, no, the mountain she was. I've only seen my mother cry once. Once. It was because she was taken far beyond her limits, limits I thought were boundless. It still breaks my heart to think of that moment.

My mom grew up in a country at a time where tradition and culture kept women in back. My mom was a progressive woman. I can only gather this through the images I have in that box. The ones where she is dressed in fancy clothing, taking in fancy parties, where she is with friends and making herself look important and.. just being a modern woman in a traditional world. The youth were just being Westernized, after the War (WWII), and she was one of those brave and open-minded women, taking on the challenge to break barriers and set new standards. This is what I'd like to think anyway.

My mom will never know how sorry I am about how I treated her. She'll never know how much I love her. And, she'll never know how much of my respect she has commanded over the years. You will never find anyone more proud of their mom as I am. You will never find anyone more humbled by the experiences had.

This is a lesson for those of you who look at your mothers and think that they're just mom; a nag, a blowhard, someone who just doesn't understand. No, they aren't. They are our support system, our caregivers, our security. They are the backbones of our families. They are the backbones of our society and everyday is Mother's Day. Appreciate your mother. Don't wait until they're gone before you do. This is the biggest regret I'll ever have. One that will die with me.