Mother's Day

I didn't want this day to come. My first Mother's Day without a mom.

Looking back on all the years I was lucky enough to have her here, I can't help but think of everything she did for me, for my Dad, for my grandmother, and for anyone who needed her help. She was so giving and loving; always, always putting others before herself. As moms go, she was exceptional, and as people go, she was the person you hoped your friends would be like.

If it was within her power to do it for you, she would. She was an amazing woman. Yes, I know most of us think our moms are amazing, but my mom really was outstanding.

This past September my daughter wanted Umma burgers for her party. My mom came, spent the day here making my daughter her Umma burgers. My daughter's party was a few days later, and my mom really wasn't feeling up to coming. She finally did decide to come, and it was later we found out (3 ER visits later) why she was hurting so much. My mom had a compression fracture in her spine, and that's why she was in so much pain. Despite that, she was here, celebrating at my daughter's birthday party.

What's an Umma burger, and why are they called that? Glad you asked.

When my daughter was first learning to talk, I would talk to her, and tell her things. One day I told her that Grandma was coming over.

“Umma?”

No, Grandma. Grrraaandma.

“Umma”.

My mom was Umma to my daughter, and then later to my son. Despite already having 9 other grandchildren who called her Grandma, I think she liked being Umma to my kids. It was kind of like their own little code, so we never corrected the Umma name.

The burger part comes from my mom's famous barbecued hamburgers. My mom was a great cook, but some things she made were simply extraordinary. Apple pie, potato salad, potato pancakes, puff pastry, and her famous barbecued hamburgers. I have a few from the last batch she made sitting in my freezer. I know we should eat them, but part of me just wants to keep them. I realize it's weird; don't judge.

Today also happens to be my husband's birthday. I'm really thankful for that. I don't know if it will soften the blow of not having my mom here, but it gives me something else to focus on. I just finished wrapping his gifts, and soon I'll take out the butter to soften so I can make his cake. I found a strawberry cake recipe not too long ago, so that's what I'm making today. Strawberry cake with whipped cream frosting. He loves the taste of strawberry. He even prefers strawberry milk over chocolate milk. Crazy person. I'm just kidding; I know it's a personal preference. Even if it is wrong.

My husband is also a one-in-a-billion kind of person.

He reminds me of my parents in many ways. Smart, funny, helpful, generous, handy, and loving. He's always here for us to do anything we need, and for other people, too. He's the guy who snow blows our half of the block, the guy who will give you a hand with whatever you need, and the guy you can always count on for a laugh. Not to mention he comes wrapped in a handsome package.

I always tell my daughter that when she starts dating, maybe 20 years from now, she needs to go for the guy who makes her laugh. Looks change, money comes and goes, but a sense of humor is forever.

This summer will mark 25 years that I met my husband. He still makes me laugh, and I love him more than I did all those years ago.

In my house, today isn't Mother's Day, it's My Husband's/Dad's birthday.