Today is the one day this year that is specifically set aside to honor you. Every day I honor you, actually. You’ve been the single constant in my life. You fought like hell when Brent and I were little ones with no help to keep us under a dry roof, in a good school, and safe. I can’t imagine what that was like. Yesterday was the day our family chose to celebrate this holiday. Yesterday was our Mother’s Day.
And where was I?
I was grading EMT students sitting for the practical portion of their NR EMT-B card. (And I followed that up by doing the same today, on your day officially.)
I sent some gorgeous flowers and a card. I called. Twice, actually. Nick and Abby were there, showering you with enough love for all of us. I know how much you loved that.
But once again, I wasn’t there. And I was prepared for you to not be all that happy about it.
Your distaste for your baby girl working in EMS has ranged from wanting to disown me, to sending me job postings for banking positions, to offering to pay for me to go to school to persue “anything other than what you do now.” Initially, it was because EMS was so foreign to you. You worried. You worried about the pay, about the stress that I’d be under dealing with what we deal with, the long hours, the possibility of getting injured… You told me about a year ago that when your phone rings after midnight that you automatically worry about me because of what I do. And I know that you still worry. It’s what a Mother does. It’s instinct. I do it to the point of distraction with my little ones. Over the course of 7 years you’ve become okay (more or less) with what I do. You’ve at least learned to tolerate it. I hoped to one day have you proudly tell someone that your daughter is a Paramedic.
That day came yesterday.
On YOUR day.
One of our family members was complaining that I wasn’t at the party. Loudly complaining. Bitching, possibly. (If this family member ever reads this post I’m going to be in a world of hurt.)
You came to my defense instantly, I was told. “She’s doing what she loves to do. She’s working. Let it go.” You actually said that. It still blows my mind. And when I called you later on last night, apologizing for not being there, your response was “April, who should you be impressing today?”
My answer was, “Just you, Mom.”
“Well, you do. I’m very proud of you. How did your students do?”
I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. My jaw was on the floor. It was a simple statement that changed so much for me.
I love you, Mom. Happy Mothers Day. I know you’ve made mine.