An early Mother's Day...

Every woman has uttered the following words at least once in their lives: please don't let me turn into my mother. There comes a time in a woman's life when she hears herself saying something that sounds as if her mother took over her own voice. She will gasp, cover her mouth with her hand, and wonder if the dreaded time has come. Then she'll probably make a very conscious effort to spend the next few days fighting the inevitable, purposely doing the opposite of whatever she thinks her mother would do.

My mother is very funny. She has a sense of humor that can bring on some heavy eye-rolling, but she can spring a witty comment on you at any given time. She is smart but doesn't show off. She is a creature of habit and knows what she likes. She is cautious and will almost always say no before she will say yes. She is a worrier and lovingly cares too much about things she can't control. She will speak up when she thinks something isn't right, but she is not confrontational. Above all, she is brave.

My mother took on the unenviable task of raising me and my brother mostly on her own when we were very young. (I say 'mostly' only to not give the impression that my father abandoned us completely. He did not.) Now, looking back as an adult, I realize she was raising herself right along with us. At one point I remember my mother trying to go back to school while she worked full-time. I was proud of her then, and still reference that time whenever I think of her strength. In the end the workload proved to be too challenging, but I would hope that she doesn't look back and see failure. I only see courage. I am not as kind to my mother as I should be, given all that she has done to get both of us to where we are.

Now a mom myself, I have already heard myself say things my mother has often said to me. I hear my mother in my laugh. I look at my hands and see my mother's fingers. I am constantly being told, by women my mother's age who I've never seen before, that I simply must be Jill's daughter because I look exactly like her. I have come to appreciate the similarities in our strengths and weaknesses, and although I may joke about the horror of becoming my mother, I am quietly embracing it. There are some relatives and long-time family friends who cannot help but call me by my mother's name. I rarely correct them.