Just spent the last hour crying because I suddenly I realized how much I miss my mom. A few weeks ago, one of my roommates told me that she would have never guessed how close my mom and I are until she lived with me. Yeah, I guess we are, but not nearly as close as we used to be.

Some days, I am afraid I am becoming my mom... other days, I pray that I will be just like her.

I remember growing up how my mom was the strongest person I knew. She had been through so much, but always seemed to think that God had it under control and everything happened for a reason. I never understood how she could find hope in even the most dismal occasions. And, her laughter and joy were contagious. I used to roll my eyes as she told my friends stories about answered prayer, prophetic dreams, visitations from angels, and the haunted houses that we've lived in.... and I cringed when she insisted that we go to midnight mass every Christmas Eve and watch Jesus of Nazareth on VHS every Good Friday. My mom was the hardest worker I knew, and always creative. Her artwork and poetry and sense of humor were things I admired more than words could express.  She always pushed us to do our best, and to give up what could be good to achieve what could be great. She never showed that she cared what others thought because she was confident in who she was and what she valued. And, she gave selflessly everything she had to her kids and our friends. Though she had her struggles, my mom was a incredible parent and an inspiration in my life.

I miss her. Though many of those attributes still hold true, I slowly watched as she neglected to follow her own advice. The troubles of this world and the opinions of others got the best of her. She loves people so much that she allows them to take advantage of her.  It breaks my heart to see her search for meaning and acceptance in all the wrong places... and it saddens me even more to know that much of her heart break can be attributed to choices I have made. I still love my mom, more than she knows.... but who she is now is just a fragment of who she once was... and I think the fragments she has lost are the aspects of life that I have recently gained. 

Here are some examples: I grew up in a house where drinking was frowned upon because it's negative effects were known to outweigh the perks of a buzz. I once scoffed at that sentiment, but now I know how true it is and choose not to drink. I grew up in a house where the foundation was faith, and I finally I can say that I have an unwavering trust in Jesus. Though we went to a church that never discussed it, I grew up in a house where talk of angels, demons, and answered prayer were common place. It's funny how those types of conversations follow me nowadays. I grew up in a house where art, poetry, and creativity were celebrated. Where dance parties were a daily occurrence, and I was always taught that a little hug goes a long way.  And, those are the little truths that I am slowly reincorporating into my life. 

But I fear, that I too will lose pieces of myself along the way... that I will allow the hardships of this world and the opinions of others to tamper my personality and extinguish both my personal ambitions and my steadfast faith. I fear that I too will slowly fade away, and never regain the hope that I once had. 

My fears are legitimate because I can see the potential of fading  in my own life... even now... as I had already begun to forget who I am. I am thankful for the  continual reminders. I am even more thankful for my family.  

Catherine: I think I'm like my dad. 
Hal: I think you are, too. 
Catherine: I'm afraid I'm like my dad. 
Hal: You are not him. 
Catherine: Maybe I will be. 
Hal: Maybe, and maybe you'll be better.  - Proof 

You see,  in many ways, I am definitely becoming my mom. And, in many ways, I'm not. 


Any way you look at it, I have a lot to be grateful for this Thanksgiving! =]