A long line of children filed onto the risers. I followed the blonde haired girl in front of me, and turned as we found our place on the front row. The front row is, of course, reserved for the shortest (and best) singers in my opinion.
I made a quick scan of the crowd. It didn’t take long to find my dad sitting a few rows back directly in front of me. The stage lights always make it difficult to see those in the audience, but there is a special peace that settles over a tiny heart when they find a face they love.
I was old enough to know not to wave. He knew that I saw him, and that was good enough for the both of us.
Our conductor took her place behind the small metal stand and adjusted the pitch so that she could best see the sheets. She drew an imaginary smile with her fingers across her face, and fifty 4th and 5th graders responded with their own real smiles.
The pianist began to play, and after what seemed like only a few seconds, we were halfway through the concert.
I had been distracted for most of the performance. I knew my dad would be in the crowd smiling, but I was looking for another face.
My mom had said that she hoped she could make it in time to see me sing. I knew that she wanted to be there just as badly as I had wanted her there. But with just a few songs left, I knew that this would likely be another concert for just my dad and me to remember.
I didn’t fault her for it. I knew that she was working hard. I knew that she was helping our family. I knew that what she did was important, and beyond that, I knew that I was more important.
But I still looked for her…
The final song began, and just as I accepted that she wasn’t coming, the back doors opened.
A long hallway with large windows lined the back wall of the auditorium. My mom came bursting through the outer doors still holding her keys and bags and wearing her long red coat. I watched as she ran the length of the room to finally make it into the performance center.
I beamed as she made her way down the aisle and found a seat next to my dad. I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to wave. This time, I didn’t hold back. I was just so happy that she had made it.
It’s funny how kids remember certain things.
Twenty years later, I still remember watching my momma run. I remember that it didn’t matter that she had missed all but the last song. I remember feeling like I was worth rushing for –
There were so many other concerts that she missed. There were countless times that I knew she couldn’t come. There were times where I would fix my own hair and put on her lipstick myself and head out the door knowing that she wasn’t going to be there, but you know, those aren’t the times that planted deep into my heart.
When I think about my momma and how she and my daddy both had to work while I was growing up, I don’t think about all the things my momma missed.
I think about the times that she made it.
I think about her running. I think about the joy I felt when she was there… Because those are the times that mattered. Those are the times that impacted my heart.
So whether you are a stay at home momma and feel like you’re there, but are never THERE…
Or a working mom who feels like she is burning the candle at both ends and letting everyone down…
Or a single mom who wears every hat and just can’t always be everywhere at once…
Or a woman who just wants to say thank you to your own mom for all the times that she made it there for you…
Borrow my words.
Momma,
You did a great job. I know that you are hard on yourself for the choices you had to make. I know that looking back there are many things you wished you could have done differently. But I also know that you did the very best you could.
I know that you were trying so hard to make my childhood special – to make me feel special.
I know that you loved me, and I know that you love to me today.
You were and continue to be a good momma, and if I haven’t taken a minute to say it in a while, “Thank you.”
Thank you for all of the times that you did make it, because those are the moments that mattered. Thank you for every test that you quizzed me for, every dinner that you made, every parent/teacher conference you attended, every prom dress that we shopped for, every phone call during college… every phone call today… and the million things in between.
Thank you, momma, for doing your best and for every time that you showed up. They each mean more than you will ever know. I love you.
To all mommas everywhere, Happy almost Mother’s Day.
