notes in my lunchbox.

my mom.  i can’t even begin to relate how much she means to me.  i can’t!  i have tried and tried all week long to come up with a way to say how great she is, but nothing i can write will ever do her justice.  if you don’t know her, then i urge you to picture a 5’3” (she’ll say that she’s 5’4”) dynamo with more energy in her pinky fingerNAIL than i have in my whole being.  she is beautiful, hilarious, outspoken, and driven.  she is a tireless worker and succeeds at anything that she does.  i know that sounds cliched, but i am certain that if we were on an aeroplane, and for some reason, that aeroplane started to crash (say, if the pilot had a heart attack a la hatchet, by gary paulsen… LOVE that book!), she could take the helm and commandeer the plane to safety, just because she knew she had to.  my mom is that kind of lady.

she was also born to be a mom.  from the time i was tiny, i remember her enveloping me (and later, that lovely sister o’ mine) in an all-encompassing and unconditional love.  whether we were riding on the teeter totter at genesee valley park and singing i like bread and butter at the top of our lungs (mom always got to be the crazy rich-voiced guy), or dragging wheelbarrows full of rocks up at the cottage (yes, this really happened), i always knew that wherever my mom was, that’s where i wanted to be, too.

and as my friend little mary and my cousin yulie can attest, this created a bit of separation anxiety on my part– i could not STAND to be away from her, especially on overnights.  but school was hard, too, and i think that was why she started writing me little lunchbox notes.  pictures, poems, songs.  good luck notes, hang in there kitten notes, april fools day notes.  notes accompanying a tiny banana, just because she thought that the tiny banana was cute.  and this practice has never stopped, even long after i was done with school and i became the old and decrepit adult that i am today.  in fact, i still carry one such note with me in my wallet.

dear laura,

don’t worry about work, honey.  i guarantee things will get better!

love, mommy

like i said, she was born to be a mom!  how can i ever worry when i have a mommy guarantee?  i cannot.  it’s just that simple.

so, on this mother’s day, i would like to take a moment to write my mom her own lunchbox note.

dear mommy,

from the teeter totter to the phantom to the day that i got cut from the softball team and the day that i ran 26.2 miles, you have always cheered for me.  i hope you know how much i cheer for you.  happy mother’s day!

i love you!


9 thoughts on “notes in my lunchbox.

  1. evie

    Very nice tribute to you mother, Laura. I sure would love to see you, your sister, and your mom sing “I Like Bread and Butter”

    Have a great day!

  2. mommy

    I cannot comment because I am still crying. You see, I do not have anyone to sing with or do all the silly things I love to do. How bout riding up in a golf cart at Darein Lake to check on the status of the wandering HKR? Oh, even the nights are better!
    Love you more than anything. dear 1st child!

  3. Colleen

    Laura, your mom is one of my favorite people in the whole world. Actually, my parents and I were just talking about her at dinner tonight! My mom is still thankful to her for convincing my dad to buy a dryer for the house on Penhurst Street. Hooray for Teresa! And hooray for amazing moms!

    PS – I am still amazed that she could make stoplights turn green with “alacabam, alacabeem…” 😉

  4. Beth Brasser

    What a lovely tribute to your mom. She really is a very special lady. I still remember the gorgeous cake she made for my 40th birthday – with the real flowers on top. Knowing my love for “When I grown old, I shall wear purple…”, she’d included purple flowers. Treasure her.
    Mrs. B.

  5. abby

    So wonderfully written. Your mother is a modern marvel. They should bottle her and sell her at Wegmans!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s