We travelled that day, old smoking car when I slowed to idle.
A cloud behind us all the way.
We made it to the coast.
Had sandwiches and sat on towels, not chairs.
Impromptu declaration of goodness and grace, my mama goal set to carry out as single priority.
A day trip, beach, frolicking and them napping as I drove back towards old house on the hill at sunset.
They called me mommy then.
Years passed and I became “Mama”. Sometimes, Mama!!!! others, Mma…ma….?!
Getting my attention or pleadingly elongated hoping to see my giving in.
But, never “Mom”.
I used to think Mom must be reserved for the cool mothers or the ones who turn the heads of everyone, never looking overwhelmed or exhausted or about to fall apart from life and mothering and the significant in betweens.
Now, occasionally I respond to “Lisa” and it bothers me not in the least that others question my acceptance of being called by my name.
I love it actually, prettiest sound of all, to hear my name called by the ones I named.
Happy Mother’s Day Moms, mamas, mommies and all the other names in between!
The names from the mouths of our babes.
I’m writing prompted by Five Minute Friday. Read other “Mom” stories here: