
So, the other day, I got curious and
searched for you, Anita Thomas, on the internet. What I found was surprising and a little unusual. I couldn't really believe the amount of
images that came up for your name on google.
A
Christian singer, a
jazz musician, a
middle aged black woman working in a cotton mill or a
consultant physician in acute internal medicine, the internet provided me an Anita Thomas in many forms but none came close to the one I know.
You've been my mother first and foremost, of course, and an extrodainary one at that. Always there when I was young to wash my scraped knees and soothe my hurt feelings. Walking me to the school bus in your nightgown when I was too scared to get on by myself. Reading me bedtime stories until I got too old. A childhood filled with Tooth Fairies, Easter Bunnies, and Santa Claus. Bandaids, Angel Food birthday cakes, new school clothes and family vacations and Grandma's and Grandpa's. Always making sure I was safe.
You were there when I was an angry adolescent too. Keeping your distance from me, understandably. But there for me nonetheless when I needed a ride home late at night or ran myself into trouble. Countless hours listening to me gripe about endless sources of anger, trying to be supportive and wanting to help. I appreciate that now, more than ever, the solid constant parent you have been in my life. Providing support, a hand up, but rarely a hand out, and a constant and steady stream of love that has pretty much been as unconditional as you could get.
And now, still my mother, but more so my friend. Someone I can share the fun things that happen, the challenges, and the difficuties. Someone whom, I can talk with much more than my phone bill would like and whom I wish I could have coffee or lunch with. I enjoy hearing about the things you're doing, trying out new, or planning. I'm extremely proud to know you as my friend, and I'm so appreciative of the accomplishments you've made in your life as a nurse, a teacher, a loyal friend, a wife and as a human being. Most of all, I'm glad you are my remarkable, incredible, and extrodainary mother.
The one that's willing to get in a photobooth with her 2 grown daughters!
Happy Birthady Mom. I love you very much.
Jill