When Mom Comes to Town

My Mother.

She is an intricate creature. She literally comes in a room and sweeps it with giggling joy, spontaneous curiosity and a slam-dunk of wisdom. She does all of that. Within like 5 seconds of walking into a room. She's no ordinary mom, I'll tell you that. She has played surrogate to dozens of my friends over the years. She listens to their problems, she really looks in their eyes, and then asks simple questions that draw out the choice that is best. It's awesome brilliance. That woman. I've never met anyone like my mother. She is generous, too. Really really generous with everything she has to give. Her time, her empathy, her dollars. She will give anything away to help you be best your best YOU. She is genuinely concerned for others, whether it's a dear old friend, one of her daughters friends, a niece or a lady she just met at the nail salon. Her compassion for others is intoxicating, more than inspiring; it makes you realize you are in the presence of someone truly consumed by honest love. It's a dizzying, gracious experience. I grew up with it and I'm still left open-mouthed. All the time. She is impressive and yet doesn't take herself too seriously. She just laughs and moves on to the next.

// Yum yum yum yum //

So my mom came in town for my birthday. I can say with absolute certainty that she was my gift this year. She is so much fun, brings so much life, and I just really needed her this time around. You know when you just need your mom? Well, she was the most perfect remedy to a 6-week whirlwind experience of moving to a new city and doing things that are entirely uncomfortable. Finally, mom got here, and I could breathe in a sigh of relief. Did I mention that she is a LOT trendier than me? She showed up to my apartment in leather leggings. I died. And my oh my, she came ready to party. We shopped til we dropped. We exercised in the park, munched on every kind of famed New York goodness and toasted til we were silly. We covered some serious turf, traipsing all over Manhattan and seeing so many sights. Ah. I miss her already. I wept as her cab drove away. There is no one, seriously NO ONE, like my mom. Come back.