Do you have a mother? Bet you do, or did. They come in all shapes and sizes and I think that's great. I have one, a mom, that is. A great mom. Know what I like best? 

I like my sitting mom. 

I am now nearing forty-four, but to a mom, this doesn't matter too much. Along with the sibs, I am still likely worried about and wondered about and prayed for and in twenty years I reckon this will still be the case. Momness doesn't go away.

I like Momness. It means food will be plentiful when I pop in at my folks, and if it isn't, Momness means my mother will move quickly to be sure one of my favorites is on the way. Momness equals little gifts, little thoughts. It plants newspaper clippings in noticeable places--something read made her think of me. Now that the computer has come, Momness keeps my inbox sprinkled with forwarded messages: dangers to avoid. (Do not use your cell phone while pumping gas!) Helpful hints. (Do you know fifteen alternate uses for a fabric softener square? I do.)

Momness also means holidays will happen, birthdays will be remembered (goodness knows the rest of us would forget). Christmas Momness ensures new socks, new gloves--all the things needed to stay comfortable and safe. Probably some almonds. Definitely a pastry shaped like a fish--all Christmas certainties because Mom is mom.

While I dig all of that, the best part of Momness, the part that fills the heart and not just the stomach, is when she sits down. Yep, a sitting Mom. An I-am-dropping-all-the-things-I-want-to-do-for-you-and-instead-will-just-be-with-you Mom. When Mom sits, the entire house stills, and so can I. It's quite a gift when Mom sits.

It's a gift because I think, oh Moms of the world, that it goes against your grain. So when you do slow, it is really quite heroic, much more so than when I slow (that is, after all, my normal speed).

So here's to sitting Moms everywhere! And here's to my sitting Mom. Sitting or moving, I love you. I love your Momness.

And not just today.

j