Mama

Your mama is the lady you looked up to when you were knee high to a junebug. She is the one who shared her Mary Kay lipstick and her Coty face powder, even when she knew you would make a mess.

Mama is the one who got up at night, sleepily rubbing her eyes and trying to sit up, rocking you back to sleep after you had a bad dream. She kissed away all the pain from a skinned knee and layered on anti-septic and a band-aid. Then, she hugged you, kissed your salty tears, and gave you a popsicle. Your favorite flavor.

Mama is the one who understood when you wanted the red prom dress that cost a little more. She is the one who saw the twinkle in your eyes when you saw it. She is the one who helped explain the price tag to Daddy, and then she figured out a way to juggle the budget so the family could afford it.

Somewhere between falling off of your bike and learning to drive, Mama started to drive you a little crazy. Call it an itch for independence. Call it spoiled. Call it normal. But, one day you decided that you didn't need Mama anymore. You were on your own.

Then, you got a job, got married, and got over it.

Later on, you found yourself about to become a Mama. And there was Mama. She sat next to you at your baby shower. She gave you a beautiful heirloom dress for your little girl, or precious blue booties for your baby boy.

She looked at you, smiled and said,"You just don't know what is in store for you. Being a Mama is something special."

That day came. Your baby was born and you knew in your heart as you looked at those tiny toes that Mama was right. The love for your child filled you until you felt it lump up in your throat. A love you could never imagine before.

And now your little one calls you Mama. She gives you pretty crayon pictures and half dead weeds. Beautiful. He comes in from playing with dirt from head to toe, smelling like the puppy he brought home.

You pace the floor when he has an ear infection. You doctor the scrapes on her knees. You try to explain whysome children are mean and sometimes grown-ups are, too. You tell her about Jesus and Heaven, and how to tie her shoes.

You tip toe in her room while she sleeps, watch her breath, and see the baby expression she once had. Then, you kiss her forehead, tuck her in, and move her favorite friend close. She rolls over and gives her bunny a snuggle.

You smile, tip toe out, and quietly close her door. Sweet. Wonderful. "Mama."