I’m back with another guest poster!
I’ve found that the guest posts seem to have become more popular than the stuff I’ve written myself. I’m almost insulted by that, but in a way, people are just complimenting me for bringing in such wonderful guests. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
My next guest is relatively new to the blogosphere, but he has already managed to impress me with his writing. I think you’ll be impressed as well. Please welcome Andrew of End Kwote!
A Mother’s Love
I’ve gotten away from my kwote-based posts as of late. However, I heard one the other night that I thought I should write about. I don’t want to spoil the kwote itself, but I will tell you that it came from my wonderful, beautiful, and kind of kooky mother.
It was about 7:00 p.m. on New Year’s day. We (mom, dad, sis, grammy, and I) were sitting around the table enjoying an amazing meal prepared by my amazing mom. Leg of lamb, potatoes, broccoli, and a slew of other superb side dishes.
“I think this should be a new tradition” declared my slightly toasted padre. He wasn’t going to hear arguments from any of us. There’s no better way to start the New Year than with an unreal meal like this.
It was honestly one of the nicest family dinners I can remember. Nothing went horribly wrong like it does for 97% of family dinners. No arguing, screaming, crying, or charring of the main course occurred. The food, the company, and the night were pretty close to perfect.
We were talking about this and that, the weather, the holidays, anything really. It was pleasant, as far as conversations go.
Then the talk shifted, as if often tends to do, to how the United States was a better place during the years of my grandma and parents.
It’s a very popular topic amongst older folks. They talk about seeing movies for a quarter and having traditional, hardworking values. They tell stories of driving old, fancy cars and eating family dinners every night. Honestly, from the way they talk about it, those seem like better days.
Of course, I didn’t have much to contribute seeing as I wasn’t, ya know, born yet. But I still enjoyed the history lesson from my mom, pop, and grammy. It was fun seeing the past through their older, wiser, more experienced eyes.
But they weren’t just talking up the times that they lived in. They were talking down the times that we live in now. Talking about how things seem to stink nowadays, how we’re worse off now.
My parents claimed to know one of the major causes of this generational-evil, and that is that some parents today don’t show their kids the love and nurturing that they need. Some parents don’t raise their kids in an environment that helps them live happy lives when they get older. Basically, according to them, some parents just don’t care.
“Parents just don’t give a shit about their kids anymore” said my Dad, gruff and severe. “They just leave ’em at daycare for the whole day, pick ’em up, take ’em home, and put ’em to bed. They just don’t care.”
His remarks were greeted with a here-here from my grammy, and head nods from my sister and I. Makes sense, I thought.
Then, I looked at my mom, sitting directly across from me.
You should know that my mom is very much a weirdo. She’s crazy, nutty, wacky, and, in every sense of the word, goofy. My weirdness comes directly from her. Of that I’m 100% certain.
But, as I looked across the table, she didn’t look goofy or cheerful. Her face was serious and blank, like she had just heard some unfortunate news. She was sad, almost.
She seemed to be listening, but letting everything flow through her ears. She had one of those lengthy, glazed-over stares. She was thinking hard, mulling something over.
Then, she spoke.
She said, in the most composed, sober way possible,
“I would cut my right arm off for my kids.”
It was quiet for maybe two seconds. And in those two seconds, I can’t remember a time where I tried so hard to keep myself from crying. With tear bursting eyeballs, I looked across the way at the most incredible person I know. That was absolutely, without a doubt, the nicest, most loving thing that anyone has ever said to me.
My mom loves me so much that she would torture herself for my sake. She would put herself through unthinkable pain for me. She would do something that would almost assuredly end her life for me.
She would cut her right arm off for me.
I’m no parenting expert, but that is an example of an exceptional, world-class mom.
Without my mom, I’d be doomed. I can’t begin to imagine the number of times that I’ve run to her crying with problems that I thought would end my world. She’s helped me every step of the way, and without her, I wouldn’t have any hope being a sane, functional, happy human being. You did a damn good job, mama, and for that, I owe you the world.
If you have a mom like mine, I hope you appreciate her. If you don’t, I’m gonna find you and cut your right arm off.
But if you have a mom like mine, I have a hunch that you know exactly how awesome she is.
Thanks, mama, for being who you are.
I love you more than anything.
Wow, all of a sudden, it got a little dusty here at The Cutter Rambles.
Assuming that you have a soul and enjoyed that post, the next thing you should do is to head over to Andrew’s site and hit the old “Follow” button so that you can read all of the awesome stuff he writes. If you need some suggestions as to where to start, I’ve helpfully provided a few: