My mom and me circa 1980. I could not imagine being a mom to an 11 month-old at 22 years of age.
My usual DIY posts consist of either a project that I complete myself or a collection of posts from other DIYers out there in Interwebs Land. This time, I deviated from the master plan decided to post about my own wonderful mother, or “mama” if you’re from the south.
One of my earliest memories — aside from the daily sobbing when Sesame Street would end because I loved the show so much — was sitting on my mother’s lap in a brown vinyl rocking chair and listening intently as she sang to me. There were many songs but the one I remember the most was “You Are My Sunshine“.
I remember as I got older and became “a big girl” I was jealous that my younger sisters were still able to sit in her lap and get the special treatment. (Un)fortunately for me I was blessed with genes that sent me on a perpetual growth spurt pretty much from birth.
At a mere 18 months I looked more like a full-grown toddler than a baby and by Kindergarten I was taller than almost everyone in my class.
My T-Ball team picture makes me look like an Amazon with me and the coaches towering above the rest of the kids.
I recall one day in particular when I was around eight years-old and had gotten a pass to go to the restroom. As I walked down the hall someone behind me shouted to get my attention. I don’t remember exactly what they said, but when I turned around to face them, they were shocked to see that I was just a child. “Oh,” they said, “I thought you were a teacher.”
Thus began my love/hate relationship with being a big girl. I eventually embraced it and am now quite content wearing heels that put me well above the six-foot mark even if my husband is 5’9″. It also comes in handy at concerts, when grocery shopping and the product you need is on the top shelf, and when decorating the very tip-top of the Christmas tree.
Though I was forced out of childhood by genetics I still fondly recall my special rocking chair time with my mother. I remember thinking she had the most beautiful voice in the world and I often wonder if my love for music didn’t begin with her singing to me and my sisters when we were little.
There are also audio tapes (remember those from the 80s?) with me practically gumming a microphone and singing songs. Another slightly fuzzier memory is me leaning on the arm of the rocking chair as my mom sang “Oh! Susanna” to one of my sisters. I remember singing with her and just being the happiest kid alive. Something about music and singing always made me smile.
As I was thinking of what I could get my mom for Mother’s Day, I realized that I can never give her anything that would adequately display my love and adoration of her role in my life. She has helped form who I am today, and quite frankly, I’m happy with that person! I may not have the biggest house or the newest car or be settled into a cushy career, but I have learned to embrace my creativity and unique way of looking at the world, some of which I owe to her encouraging me to grow and experience life in an honest and authentic way.
"You Are My Sunshine" - Set of Four 8x10 prints | The Ink Society - Etsy
While browsing blogs and websites for this week’s DIY post ideas I came across this set of prints on Etsy that display the lyrics from “You Are My Sunshine”. This, I have decided, is the perfect gift for my mom. It not only brings back beautiful memories of our relationship at it’s beginning but it says so much about her role in my life today. She is my cheerleader, my counselor, my hard-truth teller, creative idea-bouncer and most importantly, my friend.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mama. You are my sunshine.
