dear mom,
You wait at baggage claim with your big heavy camera, (dex) ready to take off into snapshot mode. Your face every time is different. Every time I rush down the escalator, my body shaking with excitement, every time our hug is different. We stand a baggage claim hugging, careless about everything that is around us. Sometimes tears are involved; we wait for my bags as we talk about everything that has been happening, from grades to dance to new shoes. You smell my head endlessly, as if I am still an infant in your arms. It embarrasses me to think I am a young adult being held by her mother while you are petting and smelling my head, at the same time its my favorite thing in the world. I could use different shampoos everyday and you are the only one to notice. I had 15 years of growing up in the best way possible. Memories of lounging by the pool-- well not actually lounging. I would make you video tape all of my awesome side-ways summersaults and crooked handstands with my ruffle Winnie The Pooh one piece. Driving in the car with heartbreaker blasting, or Jay-z to go get a turkey cheese and mayonnaise sandwich from 711, the perfect after pool snack complete with sun chips. These memories are so little and simple, yet to me they are what I think of day to day. When I was sent away I had horrible memories of treating you like you were not the person who made me who I am, who raised me and still had time to French braid my hair every single night, and the next day have a whole head of frizz for you to smell. Some special nights we would watch Seinfeld as you twisted my hair with pink foam curlers for picture day. It’s these memories that still live on between us. As much as I do not get to see you, in my head I live as if you are with me. Images of driving to mickie d’s at 2 am to feed our crave of fries and fountain coke. Or to sonic to overflow out taste buds with cream slushies. You taught me everything I know, from roller-skating, songs of famous bands, to being a respectful young woman. You took me everywhere I wanted to go even if you were busy with jobs. You made my childhood the best it could ever be. We continue to teach each other life lessons on doing the robot dance or giving each other advice on life. Some daughters are afraid of their mothers, some can't be themselves, some can’t even speak to them about certain problems. I feel as comfortable as the sheep blanket I got you for Christmas. You are the best mother anyone could ever ask for, and we have been through hell and back. But we still continue to work through the rocks in the road. I love you mom, more than anyone ever could. And even when I am 47 years old, my head will be under your nose, waiting for you to guess my new shampoo.
Love,
Sage Ryan
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