I think the most important thing my mom has given me is knowing that I can ALWAYS count on her, and that her love transcends spaces, miles, and worlds.
but aaaah, what an unstoppable woman.
Honestly—there comes a point in adulthood when you want to raise your mom and ask her to pleaaaase behave herself.
I catch myself doing that all the time.
Because my mom is a rebel. She always puts others before herself.
She doesn’t go to bed early because she got used to being the last one up, preparing something for the next day.
She’s stubborn like no one else and she never sits still.
She does everything well, and that’s exactly why she decides to do it all.
She has her own tastes, her decisions, and she’d rather write her passwords in a notebook… and sometimes she calls me to ask for HER own password.
She’s not embarrassed by anything and she speaks up when she needs to.
Or she suddenly bursts into dancing.
Her favorite songs are usually from the 2000s, and even if she doesn’t know the full lyrics, she sings them anyway.
She turns up the volume, watches movies while doing other things in the kitchen or living room—and somehow still knows everything that’s happening in the plot.
She follows her intuition and she’s always right.
They tell her “you can’t,” it looks like she can’t—and yet she always finds a way.
Sometimes she loses her keys, but she never misses a single detail.
She always comes back to check on me, to ask how I’m doing or what’s going on.
She has a sixth sense for helping people. Even if we tell her to just keep going, she’ll stop to listen, to try and solve someone’s problem—even if it’s a stranger’s.
She loves without limits, loves her people, and loves whoever needs her.
She’ll reverse the car so fast when she misses a turn.
“Ayyyy, that was it!”
She stops in the middle of the supermarket to read a message on her phone.
She forgets where she left her reading glasses… only to find them on top of her head.
She yells at movie characters in the theater, tells them to run faster or to watch out because the bad guy’s right behind them.
Her purse? A whole universe. It holds everything: band-aids, remedies, tissues.
She saves pretty napkins because “one day” she’ll use them.
She keeps a drawer full of things she might need someday—and yes, she ends up needing them to solve something we didn’t even know we needed solving.
Because she doesn’t want to throw anything away and she makes the most of everything.
You tell her no, no, no—it’s fine, it’s not necessary… and she still ends up giving you everything and more.
“Take it, I’ll give it to you, borrow it, it looks better on you, I have another one just like it.”
She’ll bend down even if her back hurts, because she plants love even in the driest pots—and somehow, they always bloom.
Unstoppable.
But somehow, she always knows.
I think it’s something that happens to moms when they become one.
But just the way she is—what a gift that she’s my mother.
unstoppable.
And no matter the distance, her love always finds me.
For mom:
earings, necklaces, and rings:
a serum for her beautiful face—she’s going to love it
some dulce de leche, for a little treat
a natural spray that smells delicious, for her room or her home
this cake stand, for when she sets her table
