My Mama

I have always shared my mama. From the time I was born, my older brother and sister were a part of my life. Later in my childhood, my family adopted. All my life there have been other people that needed mothering. My mama happens to be excellent at just that.

Today, I watched her in church. She is everyone's mama. Or at least older sister. How she seems to know what each person needs her to say or do, I will never understand. I barely know what Bunny needs me to say or do. Most of the time I am guessing. All the while, she goes around from person to person, giving pep talks, praying for them, crying with them, hugging them, and a lot of the time, just listening to them. She never ceases to amaze me.

One of my favorite people to share my mama with is my husband. She has been his mama since he was sixteen. Some children come from their mother's womb. He came from her kitchen. I remember the day that I realized that she was no longer just my mama, but our mama. She saved us that day. She has saved us so many times since. People always ask my husband if it is weird living next door to his in laws. He tells them that if he hadn't married me, they would have adopted him anyway. They are his family. That is how it is with us. We share a mama. We share the same advice and wisdom and encouragement. She is equally hard on us when we mess up. And she is equally proud of us when we succeed. She is our mama. Our one and only. We wouldn't have it any other way.

I have never minded sharing my mama. All my life there have been other people that need mothering. My mama happens to be excellent at just that.


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