My mom and I have a pretty good relationship, I would say. I could talk to her about pretty much everything. Growing up, I knew that my friends wished that they could talk to their moms the way that I could talk to mine.
What characterized our relationship is a level of trust. She operated on the principle of trusting me not to break her trust in me. A very brave (and wise) thing to do, I realize now --especially now that I am a mother myself. I never really had to beg for permission to go out with friends, have sleepovers, etc. Implicit in our relationship was the agreement that I would let her know of my plans, with whom, when, where, etc. She never had to grill me about details --whether before or after the event. She trusted me enough to use good judgment regarding what was or wasn't kosher. I don't recall having to sit through sermons either. She's not the type.
I remember the one and only time I got stinking drunk and went home reeking of alcohol and had dried-up vomit on my shirt, fully expecting to be told off and lectured on how irresponsible that was, etc. All I got was, "Now that wasn't fun, was it?" No, it certainly wasn't. And I never misjudged my tolerance for alcohol since then.
I grew up wanting to be like my mom --not just be the kind of mother that she has been to me, but also be like her in the person that she is. If I could share with our tikesters the joy of learning; if I could instill in them an adequate sense of self-reliance; if I could help them gain a healthy sense of who they are and what they stand for; if I could model courage, strength of spirit and character; if I could laugh and cry and keep moving along; if I could be genuinely pleasant to others no matter how shitty I might feel, then perhaps I just might be able to come close to being a little bit like my mother.
Happy Mother's Day, Ma!