This year is the first year, possibly since I’ve been a blogger, that I didn’t write a Mother’s Day post.  I had every intention of doing one.  I woke up, wrote two different drafts.  My friend Mo sent me a text saying to just meditate and let my mom speak to me.  And I did. I wrote two letters to her.

I didn’t feel like being sad and talking about how much I missed her, or crying through the posting process.  It was me and Mama on her day.  I miss her every day.  The keen sting of her absence is present with me every day.  But rather than wallow, my letters were spent thanking her.  It’s only fitting, because I feel that the best of me came from her.  When you look at the course of a life, 17 years is not a long time to spend with a family member.  How she managed to pack so much in is still pretty amazing.

I spend a lot of time on Mother’s Day reflecting as a daughter.  I think losing a mother stunts a lot of us in that way.  I haven’t done a list in a while, so, here are ten things Mama taught me about being a mama myself:

1. There was always room.  She shied away from exclusive cliques and “mean girls.”  If you were human, she had space for you in her world.
2. If you’ve committed yourself to help someone else, get off your own bullshit. Be present. Don’t make the situation about you.
3. Eat your breakfast. The world will be there when you finish.
4. Boxed food is the devil. I never knew the Hamburger Helper, Kraft Mac n Cheese life. Every single one of her meals were cooked from the scratchiest of scratch.
5. Stop rushing to be first in everything.  Your turn always comes around.
6. Coffee should have muscles.  To this day, if I make a pot of coffee, it could power a freight train for three days.
7. Mind your business.  Stand for the right things, but nothing buys you a bonus ass whipping like getting involved in other people’s foolishness.
8. Be as peaceable as possible.  Whip ass when necessary.  To this date, I do not like fighting. If I’m placed in a position where I HAVE to fight, I’m pissed beyond measure. It won’t end well.
9. Your family can be wrong. Your friends can be wrong. Be supportive, but don’t cosign bad behavior.
10. Your children are your greatest asset.  They aren’t your cross to bear or the thing that keeps you from a robust social life. They are your legacy. When no one else remembers you, your children will. Make those memories good.

Having a mom like her blessed me beyond measure, and however unfair losing her so soon may have been, I’m still better for having had her at all.  Hopefully as a mom, I’m doing her proud.