Tea and Soup

Andy and I arrived in Maryland on Friday night, after a rather long drive on the car-filled Jersey turnpike. Tired and frustrated, we lugged our luggage and laundry up the walkway, and standing in the warm light of the kitchen window was my mother. George Eliot once wrote, “Life began with waking up and loving my mother’s face.” As life continues, I still find very little that compares to the comfort and love I feel when I see my mother’s face.

After dropping off our bags, we went into the kitchen, where brewing on the stove was one of my favorite soups – fresh vegetable (only slightly second to her homemade chicken noodle). I eagerly scooped a bowl of soup when my mom said, “Lis, come here, I want to show you something.” I followed her to the garage, where she had bought out the commissary of my favorite tea—after searching the town for weeks to find it. As I sat down with my bowl of soup and tea, I couldn’t help but think how very fortunate I am to have a mother who gives so much. I know everyone is partial to their mother, but I do know I hit the jackpot.

Later that night, as I lay next to Andy, I started to cry, overcome with love and emotion for my mother—this woman who has given me so much; who has shown me the importance of family, of love and of enjoying life; who encouraged me to be my own person, even when I wanted to cling to her; who supported me through periods when I had no friends at school or was changing careers; who persuaded me to attend a college 3,000 miles away from family when she knew it would open more doors for me; who always put me, and my future, first.

Even though there are no words that can adequately thank my mother for all she has done for me, I would still like to say thank you, Mom, for everything—for the love and support, for the strong example you set, for being such an amazing, kind and remarkable woman, for the soup and tea. I love you.

My mother with all three of her children

My high school graduation with my mom and dad

At my wedding with my sister