Lullaby for Mom
I asked my mom if I can sing her to sleep. She loves the idea. We set a time and when I Skype in she is already in bed like I asked. I want to take a picture to use on the fb lullaby page, we giggle as she pretends to be asleep already while holding her phone and making what is probably her first selfie.
But I don't want the giggles and pictures to take away this moment.
I'm about to sing my mom to sleep.
I sing her a song with words from a writer we both admire very much. I can't really look at her while I'm singing. Afraid that I will get a lump in my throat, cause that usually makes it impossible to sing. When I'm done I wish her sweet dreams and hang up, not wanting our tendency to chat away to keep me from feeling this moment.
I'm not sure if my mom is crying on the other side of the world in her bed. But she might be, my mom cries very easily, I got that from her. When we hang up I sit in my room for a while and just breathe this in and I do cry. I've never before felt so aware of the magnitude of all she has done for me, from cleaning my diaper and singing me to sleep as a baby, to kicking my but when I was a cranky teenager, to role modeling how to use your power as a woman in this world. No million thank you's, no amount of lullabies, no matter how often I Skype her while I'm here and or how often promise her that I won't fall in love with an American and move to the US, non of any of that can ever repay my debt of gratitude for what she has done for me. All I can do to honor what she’s given me is spread the love she has given me to the world and the children I work with.
So Mom, please know that every child I pull on my lap, every bit of comfort I bring to any of my friends, every lullaby I sing, is because you showed me how to love this big.
