My mom tells the story of my birth every time I have a birthday. My dad was thousands of miles away in Japan, and I was supposed to come on Christmas. Two weeks early, she delivered me by herself, and - because she was alone, she asked the nurse to bring me in to her room so she could hold me all night. She didn't want to be alone.
I love to think about that time. I think those hours set a precedence of love and friendship and understanding that have followed me throughout my life with my mom. She loved me in my early years - with memories of teaching me to read, each letter shaping who I would become, what I would love - allowing me to wear my favorite chicken dress everyday and staying up late to wash it at night so it would be clean for me in the morning - shaping my imagination with trips to the library, and prompts for new stories and poems.
And my later years - where she put up with my teenage attitude, my complaining about clothes and boys, the times where she would tell me she loved me at random, which is exactly what I needed to hear then. She always knew when I felt unloved. She always reminded me that even if no one else loved me, she did.
That's the thing about mom's. They love you most, and in turn - teach you to love yourself. Which I believe, is the most important thing you can do.
Happy Mother's day to all of those mom's out there.