"A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. "

My sister sent this to me today--they are all pictures of my mom. I picked the quote because I think it directly applies to her--and now, to me. With six kids, I know she frequently went without so that we could have more. For most of my childhood my family would definitely have been considered wealthy, but when I was pretty young--maybe ten, I know that my mom sacrificed something for me that has turned out to have a lasting effect. Back then, we didn't have a lot of money, and I know she had to budget things much like I do now.

My dad was out of town, and we were going to go to Burger King for dinner. We stopped at a Hallmark to pick up a card. While we were at the Hallmark I found the most amazing item I'd ever seen in my life: a diary, with a little key. I remember begging for it, almost panicked that I might not get to own it. I had never kept a diary (yet) but I knew it was something I had to do. My mom didn't make a big deal about it, but she bought it. Then, we went home and she made us dinner. It may not sound like the hugest sacrifice, but I know what it feels like to want a night off from cooking, someone else to clean up, etc. She gave up her freedom for that night so that I could have a diary. I still have it. And, consequently, about twenty others. That was the first of my writing life. The bookshelf Matty gave me for mother's day holds that diary.

Now, I know what it is like to give up time, energy, personal preference (I don't really want to watch the same video again!), for others. My mom regularly put us first. She and I are really different people--I tend to be a lot more like my dad--but I can see how much she gave all of us. It takes distance and time and experience to really understand the impact something can have. I doubt I would have been scarred for life if I didn't get that diary twenty five years ago, but I'm really glad that my mom gave up her freedom for that night so that I could find mine in writing. The funny thing is that she probably wouldn't even remember this story because it was the kind of the thing she did all the time.

I've never thanked her, but if imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, she should be flattered. I don't think twice about giving up something I want for Zoey or Ollie. That is my mother's legacy.

Amber