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Mom’s Day tribute

Mother’s Day is May 14 and I’d like to send a tribute out to my mom and every other mother out there who has made the loving sacrifice to go through nine months of morning sickness, back pains, hormonal changes, swollen feet, maternity clothes and hours of labor to produce a new human being.

To a child, a mom is there to nurture you, comfort you when you are sick or hurt, and raise you from a helpless infant to the point where the child says: “Look mom, I’m 40 years old. I don’t need your help anymore, but stay close to the phone in case it doesn’t work out.”

Whether she’s called “Mommy,” “Mama,” “Mom,” “Mum” or a hundred derivatives of the name “Mother,” a mom will do a thousand things for you to make your world a safe.

She is the one who finds your lost toys when you’re a child and soothes your boo-boo when you cry.

She sews a button back on when you lose one, but only after carefully searching your crib, playpen, the house and your diaper to find the lost button and make sure you didn’t swallow it.

Moms are the ones who help you learn the tools of life from an early age. They teach you how to count your little piggies, play peak-a-boo, wave bye-bye, use the potty and let you feed yourself spaghetti without letting you get too much on your hair and clothes.

She is the one who will sacrifice her dreams so you can have dreams of your own.

As I grew up, my mom was always there to provide me with words of wisdom, counsel and advice on life. After talking to other people, I find that they were not original thoughts, but were special “mom” messages passed down from mother to child from the beginning of time.

My mom would say:

“Eat your carrots. They’re good for your eyes. You never see rabbits wearing glasses.

Don’t run with scissors in your hand.

Close the door. You weren’t raised in a barn.

Don’t speak with your mouth full.

Wear clean underwear. You never know when you might be in an accident.”

That was my mother’s credo and you know what? I ate my carrots, walked with the scissor blades clutched tightly in my hand, shut all doors on entering and ate with my mouth closed for decades. And the one time I was in a car accident and had to go to the emergency room, I had clean underwear on.

I’ve survived my childhood and adolescent traumas and grown into a mature adult who has a family and my own kids, and there’s only one thing I want to say to my mother. “Thank you for being there, and I love you.”

— Myron Kukla

Myron Kukla is the author of several books of humor including Guide to Surviving Life available online at: https://squareup.com/store/myronkuklabooks. Email him at myronkuklabooks@gmail.com.

Reflections of Erma