A word to my mother

     I have no problem admitting that I have a pretty obsessive relationship with my mother.  In so many ways she taught me to be who I am today.  She taught tried to teach me how to be a lady, she taught me how to be a wife (by example), and she taught me how to be a mother.  When I was pregnant with Princess, my mother lived about 75 miles away.  Luckily, she and my dad moved back before I actually gave birth, so my entire motherhood experience has been with the help of my mother.  Thank God! (I mean that literally.  I truly thank God that she has been there.)  Mommy is constantly making comments about how I mention her in my blog (sometimes I don't actually say who I am referring to and she knows it is her) and makes comments like "I hope this doesn't end up in your blog."  So I feel I need to set the record straight.  If I have ever said anything bad about my mother or made a comment that seemed negative, it was strictly a problem of translation from my mind to the written language; my mother is a female hero in my life.  She is the example of perfection to me in so many ways, and at the risk of sounding weird, she is a soul mate to me. (Dean is to of course, but in a different way.)  We like to use the term "kindred spirit", borrowed from Anne of Green Gables.  Even if I were horribly ticked off at her at this very moment (which I'm not), I would not be able to say anything bad about her.  In her, I see all the best parts of her mother, Marylynn, who will always be present in my mind, though she passed several years ago.  For me, there is a generational connection between Grammy, Mommy, myself, and my girls.  There's so much of a likeness that runs through all of us.
  That being said, my mom is completely crazy in all the best ways.  I can see the progression of craziness building within me with my age, so I try to embrace it.  There are times when I feel like we are just like the women in the movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" because we are excitable, and of course loud because the excitedness, bossy, we squabble (usually lightheartedly), when we are mad (truly mad) we make up within five minutes, and we understand each other completely.  We don't hold back anything from one another, which is why we sometimes have the whole "end up in your blog" situation.  It's a perfect relationship.
     I trust her with my children as much as I trust myself and Dean with them.  God has blessed her with the gift of being mother to many people who have needed mothering, and she's Nana to almost every small child I know, and definitely all the small children in our church (about 40 total).  In that way, we are different.  Small children do NOT draw to me, and I cannot spread myself thin enough to nurture an entire church worth of people.  Not yet anyway, and it's not a gift I pray or even hope for in any way.  I favor my dad in the aspect of that gift (as in we don't have it).  It is a gift that I love about her.  I love that everyone loves her so much, and that she sincerely loves other people so much.  It adds to her mystery.
  Here's my prayer for my mother:  "Dear God, protect my mother.  Help her to be protected and blessed in her ministry.  Keep her healthy.  Help her in her aid to my dad and his ministry.  Make me like her in all the right ways.  Show her Your favor in her health, in her finances, in all ways.  Let her know how important she is and how much she is loved."