Happy Birthday to My Mother
So today was my mother’s birthday and it’s interesting to me that over time the one and only thing we want for OUR day is time alone. Time in our own skin and our own space. Time to be with our prayers, our tears and our laughter and our words. 
Growing up my mother could be seen reading her bible daily. To this day I have visions of her reading her tattered bible daily. We had quite the religious upbringing - my mother was raised Catholic, my father Baptist - to some degree. We were the holiday Catholics. We attended every major mass; however my mother saw and stayed in touch with the father by the duck pond on a regular basis. However as kids we went to the Pentecostal church, the Jehovah witnesses would sit at our table and study and our prayers remained steadfast every night. It was the same prayers every night and it continues to be the same prayers I say with my kids to this day.....
My mother has a way with words and people. People LUV her. She connects with everyone, from the person next to her on the plan, the bar, down the grocery isle, in the dentist office, hell in the women's restroom. As a child it is to be understood, as an adult it is exhausting and to the point now of pure entertainment.
The older I get the more I want to stop time and soak her up. My childhood was one of a colorful, fierce and family oriented woman. She loved a good conversation, a good outfit, good food and being from out east originally she never really had any fear of adventure.
My mother is a person that gathers souls. She would bring home anything from a baby dog, goat, raccoon, and homeless person to an actual baby. Yes, once while working her tax office she came home with a baby, and was convinced we needed to adopt it. And perhaps we did, but god in his good graces found that sweet boy a home with a family that had prayed for him.
Anyone who meets me and wonders "what in the hell” I always laugh and say you should meet my mom. As a grown ass women totally winging it, I find that I am the best parts of her. As I fell down and learned life lessons should would be in my ear, but still be kind to my heart. If her opinion changed over time she would say so - but don't get me wrong a Guertin opinion in the moment and space always seems to be right!
As I pick up the pieces to my 41 year old life I call my mother on a regular basis. Actually I call her weekly if not more. I am not sure if it is her therapy or mine. Either way it works. The older I get the more our relationship changes. I no longer need her to brush my hair or tie my shoes, rather now I need to hear her voice, feel her hug and her tell me she loves me. The center of her has always been about love. Sometimes to the point of total destruction.
Either way she chooses love, when she is hurt she chooses love - I am trying to learn that lesson. How to choose love and still protect yourself.
Being the daughter to her has been a pleasure - parts of it will make you laugh, make you cry but most of all you will feel the love. She has taught me to trust my gut, put faith over fear and one foot in front of the other every damn day. If the door closes, bang on it, if it doesn't open either burn the bitch or knock on the neighbors door make friends. haha.....okay, I kid. But she never encountered a door that she could not open either by slightly twisting the knob, finding the key or by simply pushing it.
To say that I love her seems so small. I would be lost without having the opportunity to speak with her weekly. To drive to see her monthly. When the kids and I went to Chicago we called her. And we all boarded a train and we were Chicago bound. She had a great sense of adventure and created a memory with us that we will never forget. As a side note, if you ever travel from STL to Chicago and you want a fun easy ride, take the train and get the city go pass.
This week our small town was rocked by the death of one of my high school friends. She was bigger than life, her smile would like up the darkest day and her laughter would touch your soul. So as my mother and I spoke on Mothers Day we had a sad moment in an attempt to honor Angie and a small prayer for her kids, her fiance and her mother. In that moment you realize how short life really is, how you must make the time, have no regrets, drink the wine, eat the cake and take every adventure. Angie reminds us that our days are limited and time is precious. I am blessed beyond words to have my kids and my parents and my siblings. I pray god embraces Angies kids, fiance and mother during this time.
As I try to write about my mother I want you to know that growing up she was the prettiest women in town, she wore the same perfume for years -Ciara, she wore liquid blush every day, she loves Elvis, she loves music, dancing, family and in this stage her grandkids. She has clear Irish/Italian roots - so if you make her mad stand the hell back! Her words will cut you and her arms will be in 40 million directions. By the same toke if you make her happy she will cry, heck blubber like a child. If you need her she is there, if you ask for her she will come, and when you need her she will show up with open arms.
So with a smile and a foundation of love, prayer and hope I want to thank god for making you my mother. Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Birthday. I love you continues to seem so small, but sometimes the smallest things are the best. I pray you find your next adventure and it feeds your soul and your smile. That is my prayer for you. Love Always - Beenie
My mother has a way with words and people. People LUV her. She connects with everyone, from the person next to her on the plan, the bar, down the grocery isle, in the dentist office, hell in the women's restroom. As a child it is to be understood, as an adult it is exhausting and to the point now of pure entertainment.
The older I get the more I want to stop time and soak her up. My childhood was one of a colorful, fierce and family oriented woman. She loved a good conversation, a good outfit, good food and being from out east originally she never really had any fear of adventure.
My mother is a person that gathers souls. She would bring home anything from a baby dog, goat, raccoon, and homeless person to an actual baby. Yes, once while working her tax office she came home with a baby, and was convinced we needed to adopt it. And perhaps we did, but god in his good graces found that sweet boy a home with a family that had prayed for him.
As I pick up the pieces to my 41 year old life I call my mother on a regular basis. Actually I call her weekly if not more. I am not sure if it is her therapy or mine. Either way it works. The older I get the more our relationship changes. I no longer need her to brush my hair or tie my shoes, rather now I need to hear her voice, feel her hug and her tell me she loves me. The center of her has always been about love. Sometimes to the point of total destruction.
Being the daughter to her has been a pleasure - parts of it will make you laugh, make you cry but most of all you will feel the love. She has taught me to trust my gut, put faith over fear and one foot in front of the other every damn day. If the door closes, bang on it, if it doesn't open either burn the bitch or knock on the neighbors door make friends. haha.....okay, I kid. But she never encountered a door that she could not open either by slightly twisting the knob, finding the key or by simply pushing it.
This week our small town was rocked by the death of one of my high school friends. She was bigger than life, her smile would like up the darkest day and her laughter would touch your soul. So as my mother and I spoke on Mothers Day we had a sad moment in an attempt to honor Angie and a small prayer for her kids, her fiance and her mother. In that moment you realize how short life really is, how you must make the time, have no regrets, drink the wine, eat the cake and take every adventure. Angie reminds us that our days are limited and time is precious. I am blessed beyond words to have my kids and my parents and my siblings. I pray god embraces Angies kids, fiance and mother during this time.
As I try to write about my mother I want you to know that growing up she was the prettiest women in town, she wore the same perfume for years -Ciara, she wore liquid blush every day, she loves Elvis, she loves music, dancing, family and in this stage her grandkids. She has clear Irish/Italian roots - so if you make her mad stand the hell back! Her words will cut you and her arms will be in 40 million directions. By the same toke if you make her happy she will cry, heck blubber like a child. If you need her she is there, if you ask for her she will come, and when you need her she will show up with open arms.
So with a smile and a foundation of love, prayer and hope I want to thank god for making you my mother. Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Birthday. I love you continues to seem so small, but sometimes the smallest things are the best. I pray you find your next adventure and it feeds your soul and your smile. That is my prayer for you. Love Always - Beenie
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