Thanks, Ma

Thanks, Ma
         The television blares the horribly inspirational theme music and opening credits to American Idol. Near the end, a little animated singer struts to the end of the simulated stage and triumphantly lifts both arms in the air. With the biggest grin stretched across her face, one particular woman does the exact same thing. She throws her arms up, jazz hands and all, and imitates the music's last notes. This is my mom. She is the silliest, strongest and most optimistic woman alive and she teaches me something new every day.
      Once American Idol is over, she says something like "Let's watch some trash!" and falls asleep almost as soon as the channel is changed. She slumps down in a chair in a position hardly fit for a human. Several blankets and our three tiny dogs are spread over her. She looks anything but peaceful since she frowns in her sleep. "Ma, you're frowning," I say. She immediately raises her eyebrows to the top of her head before slipping back into her dreams. Who can blame her? She works two jobs, takes care of her family, and keeps up a house all with that silly smile on her face. She is the definition of unconditional love.
         On the outside, my mother's life can seem arbitrary. Anyone who takes a deeper look, however, will realize how extraordinary she is. At sixteen, she braved the waters of motherhood long before she was ready. On March 30, 1977, my half-brother, Michael, came into her world and changed her life forever. "Call me selfish, or whatever, but I wanted to keep him," she explains. She got married to Mike's father in her sophomore year of high school and was divorced by graduation. Her diploma and Bachelor's degree were all obtained on time and completed with honors. While going to school, she worked as a manager at McDonald's. On the day my mother went into labor, she had been working for twelve hours. How did she manage all this and a child? At the time, she was given some money for daycare, and Mike's grandparents helped immensely in watching him. That didn't mean she was free of responsibility, though. " I didn't have a car until my junior year of college, and rode my bike with Mike on the back of it most of the time," she chuckles. Throughout this, she demonstrated incredible, quiet, humble strength. "I never thought it was any big deal to have a child and continue on with my life. I just did it; I was happy to have Mike." My mother's strength through extreme hardship demonstrates that anything can be conquered with determination and drive.
         We hop in the car, and I drive her to Wal-Mart, her favorite store in the world. While in the car, I flip on some music, and my mother pretends to know the words. She jives and grooves and dances along, and only sings the words she knows (which is about every fifth word). We get to Wal-Mart and my mom is like a kid in a candy store. We're just there to get groceries, but she inevitably ends up checking out the sales. "Look at this! Only five bucks!" I smile and let her carry on; this is pretty thrilling to her and besides, she's entertaining. During the course of our shopping, she usually finds someone who looks interesting or comical. She whispers to me in a barely hushed voice like it's the most exciting thing ever. "Oh, my gosh, Alex! Look at that guy over there. His shoes are so funny!" She giggles to herself, reveling in her witty observation. She's cute. She never ceases to see the humor in life, and it rubs off on me. Her silly ways and lightheartedness teach me that without laughter, no one could get through life.
         After college, my mother met my father, and that part of her life is history. She had two more children-me and then my sister. They opened their own consulting business, and for a while, they had it made: huge house, tons of cash, vacations and cruises to the Caribbean every winter, and road trips in the summer. Over the course of a few years, they lost everything. The company fell into debt; we were living on every cent we could scrape together. My parents had to declare bankruptcy; we were bombarded with calls from debt collectors, and the IRS evicted us from our own home. My mom had done everything she could to try and save the company, and our family was nearly torn apart from the pain. Somehow, though, after being evicted and scrounging for money just to survive, we came out alive and well. The credit belongs entirely to my mother. She is the glue who holds us together; her unfading optimism kept us going. Turning to God in her time of crisis is what saved her, and in turn, saved us. "Nothing is too big for God! If He is for me, then who can be against me?" she explains. She and my father started afresh with a new company, and things have improved considerably. My mom now works two jobs to pick up the slack, and help clear their credit. "I do this one day at a time. All we have is today," she states. Her unfailing hope for a brighter tomorrow encourages me; it shows me that not everything is as bad as it seems, and we always have tomorrow to improve.
         My half-brother and sister-in-law arrive with Sidney, my mother's first grandchild. Mom gets down on the floor, crawls around with Sid, and yells at the top of her lungs, making silly noises. She's never been afraid to be herself, and let out the kid in her. I smile, knowing that no matter how goofy she looks, she is my inspiration. She shows me how to make it through the tough times in life with the biggest smile. Her amazing strength, optimism and lightheartedness throughout her life have taught me so much. Thanks, Ma.