Every day when the bell rang for lunch, I’d run out the bright blue door of Miss Halejian’s kindergarten classroom and sit under the shade of the tall oak tree.  I’d open the brown paper bag my Mom had sent me off to school with that morning and begin to examine my lunch.  I’d pull out my triangle sliced peanut butter and honey sandwich on whole wheat and look over at my peers longingly as they ripped the plastic off of their Lunchables or dove their plastic folks into the cafeteria’s version of what might have been Sloppy Joe.  On Valentine’s day, I’d pull out a heart shaped sandwich, and, at Christmas time, bite into a sandwich that had magically been cut into the shape of a Christmas tree.  But, oh no, that wasn’t all, folks.  In addition to the homemade cookie, folded napkin, sliced apples and carrots, I’d find something else.  A note from my mother.  I was just learning to read so my mom would write just a few words or draw a picture of an eye, a heart, and the letter u to say she loved me.  I’d smile as I chewed my cookie and read my note, happy to have saved the best part of my lunch for last.

This tradition that began early in my life represents the woman my mother is – the unbelievably thoughtful soul who goes out of her way to touch the lives of others and make them feel special.  The woman, who, with each year, I become more and more enthralled with the beauty of her spirit and heart.

My mom is the kind of mom who cuts sandwiches into triangles or hearts.  The kind of mom that makes colorful welcome home signs out of butcher paper and jumps up and down when she greets you.  She’s the kind of mom that brings reindeer bells to the airport baggage claim at Christmas time and rings them like a crazy woman when she sees us heading her way.  She’s the kind of mom that stayed up late to talk to me when I was upset even after she’d had a long, hard day at work.  The kind of mom that invited me for sleepovers in their big king bed when my dad was out of town on business.  The kind of mom that has water or cold drinks waiting for us in the back seat when she picks us up, and the kind of mom who writes notes and then leaves them for us to find in our apartment after she’s left.  She’s the kind of woman that stops to smile and thank the bus driver, that helps people she doesn’t know, that listens to everyone as if nothing were more important.  She’s the kind of woman who constantly thinks of others.   She’s the kind of mom that insists on making us a meal for our airplane ride home so she can stuff a note by way of paper napkin inside, thanking us for all we did (even though she’s the one who did everything).  My mom is the kind of mom that put bright flowers and balloons in my room when I’d been rejected from the school I wanted to attend, that stops every two feet to take a picture of something beautiful, that dances with my father every time their song comes on, that left her daughters Valentine’s and chocolates in front of their bedroom door, that made my halloween costumes by hand, and attended every.single.one. of my performances.  She’s the kind of woman that seeks the best in others, that smiles when she talks, and that lives completely from her heart.  She’s the kind of woman that calls or writes before an important event or test to let you know she’s thinking of you. She’s the kind of mom that constantly laughs and smiles – that tells and shows you a hundred times over how she loves and appreciates you, and how proud she is of you.  She is the kind of mother who shares in our joys and is our greatest cheerleader.  I don’t know how else to say it, she’s the kind of mother I only hope I can be.  And today, and everyday, I feel so incredibly blessed to call this extraordinary mom, my mother.

Wishing you and all the wonderful Mother’s in this world a very Happy Mother’s Day!