I am 30 years old. I pay my own bills, I have a full-time job, my own place, two kids (whose education and care I split with their mother). I’m a for-real grown-up. I’m also an unequivocal and unapologetic mama’s boy. I’m 90% positive I’m currently helping raise two more. I couldn’t be prouder.
My mother is a spitfire, beautiful inside and out. A woman that doesn’t fit the stereotypes of southern religious women (except where kitchen abilities and that steel backbone are concerned). Jamie Lynn is a woman that did things her way, in a location and time that doesn’t always appreciate that from someone with “Ms.” at the front of her name.
She’s a hard-worker, who raced through college in three years while her peers (and later, her kids) would take their sweet, sweet (really, it was a hell of a lot of fun) time. Once she graduated, she went straight to work. Which is why, she’s on tap to retire in a couple of years with full benefits while she’s still a young woman.
She didn’t make every right choice along the way (many questioned that first big one, Jimmy, but I’d say that one worked out fine), but even her mistakes turned into solid lessons for her students, and kids. You see, Jamie Lynn was born to be a teacher. She’s got a gift for breaking through that first level of nonsense and communicating with even those hardest to reach (one of the best arguments, perhaps for marrying Jimmy).
I’ve never felt persecuted or oppressed by my mother, and perhaps that’s why even now when I hit a crisis or question I’m as likely to consult her first as google. Whether the question is “how many teaspoons in a cup” or “how long can I wait to change this air filter” or even “what kinda interest rate is mom’s welfare loan and trust currently offering”.
I love my mom. She’s one of my best friends, as well as a mentor and the very first member of my fan club. Whatever I ever amount to (and it won’t be nearly as much as she hoped or deserved, I’m sure) it’ll all be because of her. So, you know, blame her if this all turns out badly. (just kidding, mom, I’m still a good boy.)
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Thanks for me. It’s a pretty awesome gift. I love you.