It turns out that writing a post about your mom is nerve-wracking.
I’ve tried to write this five different times. A blog post. Five times.
So let’s just say that this will not be life-altering nor will it convey all of the wonderful, good things I can or want to say about my mom. Okay? Okay.
Now, then, let’s start with a movie because that’s usually a good place.
The Help. That’s right. I’m going there. I really love that movie. My mom and I dragged my dad to go see it, and it was probably one of the best movie-going experiences I’ve ever had. I think our theater was full of fans of the book; they were all cheering and laughing and crying (yes, really) through the entire thing. The Miller family enjoyed it, but I’m sorry(?) to report that we weren’t howling like the rest of the audience.
Actually, the biggest impression the movie had on us was a single line.
No, not the “eat my…” one. Although, that was pretty great.
I mean the classic. “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”
Now, at first my mom and I sort of repeated these words back and forth to each other because it was just one of those funny-sounding quotes, like so many in our repertoire.
“I don’t KNOW, Margo!”
“I like you very much. Just as you are.”
“He’s had 152 moles removed, so now he has 152 pockmarks on his face.
The number of people who think he looks like Clark Gable.
The number of people who think he looks like a Clark Bar.”
“Her shriveled little legs.”
Did I give enough quotes? Oh, good.
The Help line became another in the rotation. Mom would (will) end an email or a card with it, and it’s funny and sweet. I mean, those are lovely words to read. What I realized recently, though, is that this isn’t new.
My mom has been telling me a version of those words my entire life.
Every time she tells me I’m beautiful because of my heart, that I can be anything I want because of my brain, and that she will always love me no matter what, she gives me what Aibileen gives Mae Mobley.
How many people don’t get to hear that? How many people grow up thinking they’re stupid and ignored and unloved? Too many.
My mom is a spectacular mom. It’s not because she’s a brilliant, incredible, intelligent, beautiful woman (although, she is). She’s spectacular because she builds others up. She is the most caring person I have ever met in my life, and I’m so in awe that God made me her daughter. Not everyone gets the best mom in the world; not everyone gets a mom who lets them know how capable they are.
Every little girl, every child of every age, deserves those words, and I’m so thankful that I get to hear them from the woman I admire most.
In case you haven’t heard it today: “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”