Mami

Today I want to talk about my mother. What can I say about mami?

Well, she is the daughter of abuela, so she is one strong woman. She did everything she could to raise my brother and me, to be independent, successful, and to be good people. She did everything, from always having dinner on the table, to helping us get a good education, to being there for me always, from the fun moments, to the most difficult moment I’ve faced.

She is a wonderful teacher, who does everything she can to teach her students and to help them have a good time learning. Teaching is not only her job, but she teaches us everyday, from sharing stuff she reads about that she thinks might be helpful to us, to just sitting down and talking to us and to being a great example of how to be a good mother, friend, aunt, sister, daughter, wife and just a wonderful person. Mami has that gift to sit down and explain stuff in a way others can understand, with patience, whether she’s talking to children or adults.

My mom and I have a special relationship because I am her little girl and I know my brother is her little boy (even though we are both adults now), but we are both the only ones, one girl and one boy. I think that’s why our relationship is so special, we are a force no one can mess with. A few weeks ago we showed our strength moving a heavy box from my grandparents’ car, to their house, while other people tried to look for a way to make something to take it out of the car. Without thinking about it twice, we dragged it out of the car and into the house by ourselves. We are a force to be reckoned with, and I learned it all from the many strong women in my life, including her, my grandma, and many others I still have to thank.

She taught me how to drive, cook, clean, and has always been there for me from day one, especially these last four years, she flew that night to be with me. She says getting phone calls at night are her worst nightmare after that night.

In the first memory I have of these last four years I’m in what seems to be a hospital, laying in a bed, she is the only one with me, and I am crying. I’m telling her I want to leave, I want to go home, and I’m asking her why we can’t go home, why I’m there. That’s what I remember, I don’t know where we are, but I just know she’s there; just like she’s always been there. Every happy or sad moment, she’s been there with me.

During these four years, she has celebrated every one of my accomplishments, my first steps, my first words, all of my 5k races, she’s been there during my therapies, she took a break from work to be there with me, and she has been there at my doctor’s visits. My mom has been there every step of the way, she has fought with the health insurance, she has driven me to doctor’s appointments, or has made sure that I am with someone who can drive me, she went with me to my graduation, and I can go on but it will be a book. (Another book idea).

I know I made her sad, I know she cried, but I don’t want to ever make her cry again. I hate seeing her cry, and I want her to be happy, I want to make her proud.

Mami, I love you. I am blessed to have you as my mother and I could not be where I am today without you. Gracias, te quiero mucho.

Kiki