I was looking through an old family album recently when I came across a drawing I made for my mom one Mother’s Day. It is a pencil sketch of a tulip with sentiment and instruction at the bottom. 
A few pages later, I found another one.
And in a box of old photos, I found a Mother’s Day poem written by my little brother:
I love you, Mom.
You’re the best.
If you were to leave,
It wouldn’t be that best.
So true.
I kept digging through that box and found some precious photographs of me and the women who mothered me.
Mom & me circa summer 1978:
I spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s house after I was born because Mom was finishing nursing school. My great-grandmother, who I’m named after, lived in a trailer on my grandparents’ property, so I spent a lot of time with her, too. Here’s a picture of the three of us:
Helen, my grandmother, is holding me, and her mother, Imogene (“Mama Gene”), is standing behind us.
I was also heavily mothered (in a good way) by my Aunt Carol.
I must have just had a bath. Actually, it looks like I just finished peeing on my aunt’s leg. And it was hilarious.
I’m so grateful for the women who had the greatest influence on me during my most formative decade+ of life. Happy Mother’s Day!
