I didn't think the words would come today. I don't feel like being thankful. Not at all. My face is broken out like a 15 year old girl, I hate my long hair, and I just want to sit and eat fun size candies until I throw up on myself. That's how I feel today... it's not lovely.
I didn't want to be thankful. And, even though the possibilities of things to be thankful for in reference to my mother are multiple, none tickled my fancy. Until just now as I cleaned the downstairs bathroom.
I am so thankful she was always interested in me.
It's what I miss the most. She always wanted to know what was going on and to talk about it. Every day. Whether it be how heavy my menstrual cycle was this month or how much homework the kids have tonight or what was on sale at Publix this week, she was interested. She loved to read what I wrote because I wrote it. If someone else wrote the same words as me, she wouldn't have given a darn about it. She had a genuine interest in me as my mother that no one on this green earth will ever have, and I miss that terribly.
I understand it. It's the same interest that lies behind the conversations I have held about Power Rangers and Barbie and Xbox games I don't understand and which flavor Sweet-tart I like the best. It's the way moms talk and ask questions about things that are only interesting when you add your child into the equation. It's a mom thing. And I sure do miss my mom.
I think, sometimes, if I could have one more conversation with her, what would it be about? And the answer is that I would simply like to have a conversation. It wouldn't have to be about much of anything at all, and she would be interested in anything I had to say as she always was. And no matter what the subject material, I would not take a single second of that conversation for granted.
I am so thankful that my mother was always interested in me. From beginning to end, she wanted to know about me, about my life, how I felt about things. Not all moms are like that, but I was blessed with one who was.